Weave and Tear
by Alantie1
Summary: All Human AU- Spike and Buffy are best friends. Spike and Buffy become lovers. Spike and Buffy fight and desert each other for 9 years. Spike and Buffy have Nicholas. Spike and Buffy fall in love. (trust me. read it.) -NOW COMPLETE-
1. Begin

Thats right! New story, loves! And an AU all-Human to boot! This one will be eventually NC-17, but those chapters will be edited for FF.net. You will be able to find the Smutty versions at Spuffyarchives.com. I'll let you know when the time comes though! Anyway, read it, let me know if its good, or if I have no business writing an AU!  
  
BTW- for those of you following 'The Last'...the final chapter of that will be up this week sometime. Its longer than all the other chapters since its the 'Great Ring of Fire' battle, and all that closure stuff has to happen.   
  
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Buffy Summers twirled haphazardly around her room, the beautiful pearly red creases of the dress straightening and fluttering in waves around her. Spike watched her with amusement clear on his face, as he lay sprawled across the downy comforter of her bed, beer firmly in hand.  
  
  
"So, whatcha think?" she asked, her face rosy from her crazy spins.  
  
  
He smiled. "It's gorgeous. He'll love it," he said honestly, looking at the strapless crimson gown that hugged the graceful curves of his best friend until her hip, where it dropped smoothly into a draped and full skirt.  
  
  
"Yeah, he will, won't he?" she whispered with happiness as she eyed the back of her dress from over her shoulder in the mirror. Her left hand kept running over the shimmering material, while the right held her soft blond curls atop her head, some escaping and cascading around her face and down her neck. He smirked again when he noticed the huge frumpy woolen socks she wore where tiny princess slippers should be.  
  
  
"An' you should wear those, too. Because, they complete the outfit, love," he teased lightly, setting his beer down, standing up and moving to her, finger indicating the socks. She blushed, and then picked up her nearby stuffed pig, hurtling it at him with mock annoyance.  
  
  
"Jerk," she grinned, and then stuck her tongue out at him. "But come on, seriously, Spike, use your imagination. I'll wear my hair up like this, or something, and then have nice strappy heels. And a shawl. Gotta have a shawl. And he is going to get me a white orchid and red rose bouquet, so remember to tell him that," she ordered, jutting her finger into his chest with each word of the reminder. He looked down into her serious eyes, glowing with excitement. She peered up at him, her lips quirking into a smile.  
  
  
"I'll remember to tell the wanker," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her so she was facing the full-length mirror.  
  
  
"Don't call him that, he's your best friend you know," she huffed, her bottom lip jutting out in a little pout. He took her hand from her hair and buried his hands into it instead, holding the silky waves in the same way she was so she could continue her dress-smoothing and preening.  
  
  
"ONE of my best friends," he corrected, looking at her in the reflection of the mirror. "And just because he is my friend doesn't mean he isn't a wanker. He's not good enough for you anyway."  
  
  
She sighed exasperatedly. "You scare off all the other guys, therefore only leaving me to date the males in our small-but-close circle of friends. I chose Riley."  
  
  
"You chose Riley in second grade, pet, but he has only just noticed you since you hit puberty. So, correction, he chose you."  
  
  
"Well, of course he only just noticed me since I hit puberty. Before I was a scrawny, glasses-wearing freak. Now I'm a woman, with beautiful eyes, and luscious curves..." she jokingly trailed off, running her hands over herself again, and pushing one side of her hip out at a jaunty feminine angle. Spike groaned at her.  
  
  
"What do you want me to do now? Agree with you?" he asked her with annoyance.  
  
  
"Ew, no! You saying I had luscious curves or implying in any way, shape, or form that I had a nice body would just be too icky for me. You are Spike. You don't notice anything sexy about me," she said truthfully and firmly, but her eyes looked slightly sad at this statement, Spike noticed with surprise. He didn't know what to do with that. Sad eyes. Serious issue. So he resorted to safety, and once again started the teasing.  
  
  
"Mm, I don't know, pet, you know I notice the women. You know I'm... experienced," he said in a low, seductive voice, dropping his lips to her bare neck. Her cheeks and ears turned red, but she knew he was joking. His eyes were sparkling in that "I feel like rattling your cage" sort of way.   
  
  
"Spike, Spike, Spike...cheating on Riley with you is so tempting, but I don't know if I can handle your...experience," she said, saying the final word in a mocking way, the same tone he'd said it in. He barked with laughter, standing up straight again, and pulled his fingers from their place in her locks of golden hair, letting them fall to their place at her shoulders.  
  
  
"Well, Buff, I gotta go. I'll see ya tonight," he said, running his hands down her bare shoulders to her elbows.   
  
  
"Bye." She smiled when he pressed a friendly kiss to her temple, and then grabbed his duster from its hook on her door, leaving the apartment with a quiet click.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
"I can't believe you are working on a Friday night." Cordelia Chase moaned into her cell phone. Spike laughed, his hand playing lightly with the cord of his handless phone as he drove his convertible loudly down Main Street.  
  
  
"Hey, now, love, 's not so bad. I'm the bloody bartender at the only club worth hanging out at in this town. 'S not like you'd be going anywhere else tonight," he said sweetly to his girlfriend of four months.   
  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. How late do you work?"  
  
  
"'Til midnight. Buffy works tonight, too, so everyone else will be there," he said, weaving expertly through traffic on the small, but busy highway running through Sunnydale to Los Angeles. Sunlight glinted off his hair, clashing so vibrantly with the sleek black lines of his sportscar. He certainly turned heads.  
  
  
"Okay, good. And then do you... maybe... want to come back to my place afterwards?" she asked nervously. Spike sighed, turning the wheel at his exit, gliding smoothly from the freeway.  
  
  
"Cordy...I don't think we're there yet. You know sex is a really big deal for me. Let's hold off until it's right, okay? 'S not that I don't want you, god, I do. You are incredible. I jus'....." He trailed off as he pulled up to his apartment, stopping the car and turning off its purring engine.  
  
  
"I know. I understand. We'll wait," she said quietly, her serious voice mingling with cell phone static. "All right, I'll see you tonight at the Bronze around nine. Bye, babe."   
  
  
"Bye, love," he said just as quietly.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
Buffy slammed her tiny hand down onto the slippery counter, leaving a piece of paper on its surface.  
  
  
"Drinks. Now. Make them," she commanded, blowing sweaty wisps of hair from her bright face. Spike smirked at her.   
  
  
"What's up your ass, Princess?" he asked, glancing over the orders and moving to make the alcoholic mixes.  
  
  
"Tired. Sweaty. Headache," she groaned, collapsing on a high stool, head falling onto her arms stretched above her head, hanging limply over the side into Spike's way. He couldn't resist running a piece of ice down her pretty little fingers. She jumped, but didn't rise to the bait.  
  
  
"Boy, you really are in a shitty mood then. Not amusing me with your fiery self," he mused, placing three of the made drinks next to her. "Table 4 is up."  
  
  
She raised her head with another whimper and glared at him. His gentle smile lended strength as he ran a cool hand down the side of her face.  
  
  
"Come back for Table 10 then, and I'll give you some aspirin, and a Coke for a nice jolt."  
  
  
"Oh, god, you are a lifesaver!" she sighed, grabbing the drinks and dodging skillfully through the crowded club.  
  
  
She returned moments later, this time with two of their other close friends in tow.  
  
  
"Looky who I found!" she announced, jumping up onto her stool again and accepting the tall soft drink and the pills Spike had dug from his pocket. Willow Rosenberg and Anya Harris seated themselves next to her.  
  
  
"Well, if it wasn't the lovely Mrs. Harris and the beautiful, and very available, Miss Rosenberg. What brings you two to the Bronze on a Friday night? Don't have an elsewhere to be?" Spike teased, spreading his muscular arms out with flourish and bowing mockingly.  
  
  
"Nope! Finished all papers due on Monday. Xand's out of town, so Anya got her stuff done faster," Willow explained, pointing to a beer nozzle and gesturing to Spike.  
  
  
"I don't know how you do it, An. Being a wife, and a student, AND an assistant manger at Revamp Designs, Incorrporated. It baffles me," Buffy thought aloud, sucking at her straw.  
  
  
"Speaking of Revamp, how's it doing?" Spike asked, setting a tall foaming beer in front of Willow's delighted face.   
  
  
"Oh, god, it's doing outstanding. Making a lot of money, which is always a good thing. Xander is the best interior designer in the world! I'm so lucky to be working with him!" Anya gushed, face glowing with happiness.  
  
  
"Yeah, and being married to him is probably a good thing too..." Buffy added with amusement.  
  
  
"Yup. He's the king of orgasms. Giving them, that is. And getting them too, but it's the giving that is especially nice," she said bluntly, eyes sparkling with naughty insight. Spike laughed and shook his head, while the other two girls just giggled. Everyone was used to Anya's frankness by now.  
  
  
"Buffy, you got more tables to serve," a gruff voice came from down the bar. Buffy recognized it as her boss, and slid off the stool quickly.  
  
  
"Right. That's my cue. I'll talk to you guys later. Thanks for the Coke and aspirin, Spike." She faded amongst the bodies of people standing and dancing around.  
  
  
"William Sheffield, give me a good stiff drink." Riley's low but boyish tone penetrated the pulsing music that had knitted a mesmerizing weave around Anya, Willow, and the working Spike. He lowered his large body onto the stool where his girlfriend had just sat and looked expectantly at his friend.  
  
  
"Not giving you a drink until you address me right, Riley," Spike said stubbornly. Riley rolled his eyes.  
  
  
"Spike. Please give me a scotch on the rocks," he mumbled. Spike grinned and slid his order across the glossy bar to him. Riley took several long swallows before finally putting it down and greeting his friends. "Willow, Anya. How are you guys this evening?"  
  
  
"We're both peachy," Willow said enthusiastically, the beer's buzz flooding her mind. "Have a rough day at the mall?"  
  
  
"You have no idea. Security at a tiny mall like Sunnydale's is a lot harder than it looks."  
  
  
"And it looks pretty damn hard, considering you have to wear those atrocious and unflattering uniforms that make you look like a big blue lug, rather than a man set before everyone to condone good and beat down little shoplifters," Anya mused, playing with the fruit set along the rim of her margarita.   
  
  
Riley just glared at her blankly for a second before replying dully, "Thank you, Anya."  
  
  
"No problem! Just here to serve!" she said perkily.  
  
  
"Speaking of serve, where's Buffy?" Riley asked, his green eyes scanning the busy place.  
  
  
"Serving," Willow, Anya, and Spike said in dead unison. Riley rolled his eyes again.  
  
  
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Thank you so much for this wonderful information you all are providing for me tonight. I just-" but he was cut off by two slinky arms wrapping around his broad neck.  
  
  
"Hey, honey!" Buffy said sweetly into his ear. Then she looked up at the others. "And I bring another missing lamb!"   
  
  
Cordelia waved from behind Buffy and Riley, and then jumped eagerly up on a barstool to lean over the bar and kiss her boyfriend passionately. Buffy's eyes turned dark and sad once again before she shook it away, and planted her hand under Riley's chin, tilting it to her, and kissing away the unsettling tinge that pierced her heart.  
  
  
  
  
tbc 


	2. Hangovers

AN- Sorry it took so long to update...I was awaiting my Beta, but then grew restless, so here it is anyway...I'll put the beta-ed version up as soon as she gets it back to me.  
  
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Buffy grunted under the weight of her drunk boyfriend's arm as she trudged with him down the alley the Bronze's entrance was on. He sighed into her face, the sour alcohol hitting her with nasuating force, making her stumble as she gagged, while struggling to keep him upright.  
  
  
"Come on Riley, stand..up..just...a..little...okay, Hun?" she gasped out, pushing his body up to a standing position. He moaned and slumped against her again, "Damn it, Riley!"  
  
  
"Having difficulties?" a clear, mocking voice rang out in the dankness surrounding Buffy and Riley. She sighed, and looked over her covered shoulder at the person approaching.  
  
  
"Wanna help me, Forrest, or are you just going to stand there and act like the dick that you are?"  
  
  
"You gotta ask nicely, Missy. Just because he's like my brother, doesn't mean I'm going to jump at a chance to help him. Helping him in this circumstance, is, by extension, helping you. And thats something I don't do often." he bit at her, striding arogantly up to her tiny frame stooped over by her massive passed-out boyfriend.   
  
  
"Cute outfit, by the way." he added smugly, referring to her Bronze waitress uniform of a tight scoop-necked tee shirt, and mini skirt. It had to be the sluttiest uniform she ever wore, but it was a job, and she needed the money for school expenses. Forrest just loved to find every fault, though.  
  
  
"Yeah, okay, whatever. I can lug him home by myself." she muttered, taking slow steps forward. Forrest's lips broke in a shining but cruel grin.  
  
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Blondie, you are far too stubborn for a girl of your low intelligence level. But hey, have fun! Only 10 more blocks to go!" he laughed, saluted, and then turned on his heel and disappeared into the Bronze.   
  
  
"Only 10 more blocks to go." she repeated with agony. Just then two headlights blared into the alley, chasing the shadowy nasties away with their intensity. Buffy raised an arm to shield her eyes, hoping desperatly that the driver saw her in the middle of the road and swerved to avoid her. But the car stopped, and she soon heard the driver's side door open.  
  
  
"Buffy! Here! Let me help you!" came the voice of Adam Finn, as he jogged over to the two. He quickly wound his arms around his baby brother, and carried him to the car quickly, depositing his body in the back seat. Then he was at Buffy's side in a flash, "Here, come with me to get him home and settled, then I can drop you off at your place, okay?"  
  
  
"Um, okay, Adam. Thanks." she muttered, somewhat unsure about his enthusiasm as he opened the passenger side car door for her chivalrously.  
  
  
"Spike called me on my cell about 10 minutes ago. He said your shift was over before his, and that Riley had come to the bar after a hard day and got completely, "shnockered", I believe was the word Spike used. Anyway, he said you had just left helping Riley by yourself, and that he was worried so he wanted me to come give you a hand. Buffy, you really should have called me yourself. He's my brother, so I gotta look after him too. And of course I worry about you..." Adam explained in an excruciating long blur of words as he drove slowly to Riley's apartment.  
  
  
"Whats to worry about?" she asked stand-offishly, playing with one of her sweat-tinged curls as she stared out the window, trying to avoid his caring eyes that made her uneasy.  
  
  
"You, alone at night, and carrying his enormous and heavy body. He could break your back, darling!"  
  
  
"Adam, I take street-fighting and self-defense PE as my minor, which involves lots of weight training. You don't have to worry about me alone, or me and his heavy body." she said strongly, but her eyes still carefully avoided him.  
  
  
"Aw, I know you are a big girl. I'm just fond of you, is all." he replied, putting his sweaty hand ontop of hers that lay on her knee. She quickly pulled it from under his grasp, but his hand stayed on her bare skin, thumb caressing lightly, moving closer and closer to her inner thigh...  
  
  
Riley's apartment building never looked so good in her entire life when it appeared in the street lights a split second later. As soon as the car came to a stop she was out in a flash, pulling Riley from the backseat with all of her might. Adam got out and tried to assist her, but was rebuked by her stubborness, and told he could go ahead and leave, and that she would walk home. He reluctantly agreed, sending her a look of puppy-dog eyes full of concern, before slipping into his sedan and driving away. Buffy let out a relieved sigh, and pulled her inebriated lover up the concrete steps to his home.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
Across town Spike was having similar troubles. His shift had just ended, several minutes before the stroke of midnight, and a drunk, extremely horny Cordy was eagerly wandering his body with her hands as she sucked on his earlobe while he drove.  
  
  
"Cordelia, please, stop. We can snog as much as you want when I drop you off at your house, but until then, hands off."  
  
  
"Mm..coming to my house, eh? Coming AT my house...yum..." she whispered in his ear, her hand creeping into the waistband of his low-riding jeans.  
  
  
"Dropping. You. Off. Not staying." he said firmly, but put his hand up her skirt and between her thighs sensuously to reassure her that he wasn't angry with her, just set in his decision. She groaned when she felt his warm hand caressing her bare inner thighs and began to writhe against it, now preoccupied with her own pleasure rather than his. Her hands made a shakey retreat, and now clutched the sides of the passenger side seat as her breathing picked up when his fingers began their invasion. It was a strange angle to be fingering a girl, but at least she was happy, and he wasn't TOO distracted from driving.   
  
  
She came the minute the car stopped in front of her beautiful home, body quivering and then stretching languously with pleasure. Spike watched her, his eyes hooded with arousal, but still tainted with mature consciousness. She licked her lips happily and turned her head to gaze at him, hair falling in beautiful brown waves around her sweat-kissed neck.  
  
  
"That was amazing. Thank you, baby." she murmered, curling her fingers around his collar, and pulling him in for a forceful kiss while her other hand slipped into his pants and grasped his hardening manhood. He filled her mouth with a groan of ecstasy as she began to stroke and squeeze him to release. Spike's hands wound into her hair and held her head harshly so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue probing hers and invading her throat. Their desperate gasps for air in between the passionate liplock filled the air with Spike's moans of pleasure and the squeaky sound of him moving his hips and up and down eagerly on the leather seat. Finally, he rippped away from his girlfriend's mouth, throwing back his head and sighing as he came. She watched with pride, petting his shaft with one hand, and his sweaty cheekbone with the other.  
  
  
"Like that?" she whispered gently, leaning forward and brushing feather kisses on his neck.  
  
  
"Mm-hm. You're the best." he whispered back, nuzzling her hair, "We're both gonna sleep well tonight." he mused with content.   
  
  
"Hell, yeah.." she laughed softly before pulling away, "I had better go now. I feel sticky, and that inevitable headache is going to start any minute now that my happy joy buzz is wearing off."  
  
  
He nodded, eyes smiling as he placed a chaste kiss on her sweet lips, "Goodnight, My Sweet."  
  
  
" 'Night." she smiled back, opening the car door and stumbling slightly as she closed it. Spike watched her walk slowly to her house, and then pulled smoothly away.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
"Wake up, you fuckin' ponce!" Spike shouted, ripping the sheets off the snoring form of Riley, who grunted and reached blindly for the blankets again.  
  
  
"What the hell are you doing, Spike?" he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut tighter, and burying his pounding head under a plush pillow.  
  
  
"You have exactly 3 hours get your arse into gear. So I suggest you get up, and get that arse into the kitchen and drink the super strong coffee I jus' made for you." Spike explained opening the blinds and pulling Riley's crisp tuxedo from the closet, hanging it on the door.  
  
  
"Three hours to what?" Riley asked pathetically, sitting up and rubbing his sore eyes.  
  
  
"UCSunnydale's senior formal banquet and charity auction. You are taking Buffy. This is your tuxedo. You are picking her up in THREE. HOURS." Spike explained as he would to a child, grabbing on to his friends hand, and urging him from the bed, "Go take a piss, and then come to the kitchen. Understand?"  
  
  
Riley nodded wearily and trudged to the bathroom while Spike went back to the kitchen to pour him a giant mug of black coffee, humming cheerfully as he did so. Riley emerged a few minutes later, his face rosey from water he had splashed on it, and looking more awake. He instantly grabbed the mug, and drained it in a matter of seconds under the watchful gaze of Spike.  
  
  
"Why are you staring at me like that?" Riley groaned, rubbing the back of his neck pitifully.  
  
  
"You would 'ave slept through tonight if it weren't for me. You know how much that would 'ave hurt Buffy?" Spike asked, taking careful sips of his own cuppa. Riley had the decency to hang his head in shame.  
  
  
"Yeah, I know. And I'm grateful. Just have one hell of a hangover, is all." he said quietly, sitting himself down on a stool along the counter's bar.  
  
  
"Speaking of which, I had to call Adam to come help Buffy drag you home last night." Spike tilted his coffee mug towards him accusingly. Riley's head rolled back up.  
  
  
"Adam helped Buffy? You called Adam?" he asked with slight concern.  
  
  
"Yeh, mate, why?" Spike asked, eyes squinting with confusion as his dark eyebrows drew together seriously.  
  
  
"Nothing, I'm just surprised is all. Buffy says that Adam makes her feel uncomfortable or something. Some girl-thing like that, I don't know. I don't ask. She just doesn't like him. I'm just surprised she never told you that."  
  
  
"Girl-thing, eh? Buffy's isn't really a "Girl-Thing" type o' girl. I'll 'ave to ask her about that." Spike mused, setting his empty mug in the sink.  
  
  
"Don't worry about it. I don't. She's okay." Riley added, sliding from his perch on the stool and setting his mug next to Spike's.  
  
  
"Well, I gotta go. Promised Willow I'd give her a ride to the airport to pick up her brother. Have a good time tonight." Spike said, slipping on his duster and picking his keys off of the nearby table.   
  
  
"Wait, Spike, what are those?" Riley asked suddenly as he indicated the giant bouquet of red roses dotted with delicate, snow-white orchids. Spike answered without looking back,  
  
  
"The bouquet Buffy wanted. I called you yesterday and told you to get it for her, but figured you forgot, so I got them. Don't forget to give them to her now, wanker."  
  
  
And he pulled the door shut behind him to sternly punctuate his warning. 


	3. Family

Spike laughed heartily as he did his best to keep up with the red-headed spitfire dodging through the airport hallways in front of him. He had been five minutes late picking her up, and she had a field day chewing him out on punctuality and how important it was to be on time for her wonderful big brother's arrival. And so now they ran through the crowds of people at the small Sunnydale airport, hoping they were on time for his plane from San Francisco.  
  
  
Willow finally skidded to a stop, causing Spike to run into her abruptly. She sent him an annoyed look over her shoulder,  
  
  
"Geez! You can't be on time and now you can't watch where you're going! Not impressed, Spike!" she whined, correcting her clothes and fixing her hair in the reflection of the terminal's wide window.  
  
  
"His plane just got here, pet, see? It isn't as bad as you thought. And he probably rode first class, so he'll be out any- aha, see, there he is." Spike said smugly, pointing at the large dark-haired man emerging from the gate as he leaned against a pillar. Willow stuck her tongue out at him briefly before bounding forward to envelope her older brother, Angel Rosenberg, in a gigantic hug.  
  
  
"Angel!! Hey bro!! How was you flight? God, I think you've gotten taller since the last time I saw you!" she shrieked as he spun her in a circle, his smile lighting up the room.  
  
  
"And I think you've gotten smaller? How did that happen!?" Angel laughed, setting his tiny sister back onto the floor. Her pixie-features squinted in a little sister's expression of indignation before softening to just pure joy again. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards Spike.  
  
  
"You remember our bleach-boy Spike, right?" she asked, tossing her short-cropped red hair in mock superiority. Angel grinned and stretched out his large hand. Spike took it and shook it hard.  
  
  
"Of course I remember Spike. How could I forget Spike? Why are you still going by that school-age nickname anyway?" Angel asked curiously as he released his hand. Spike simply shrugged.  
  
  
"It caught on with the college buds, then it bled over to the bartending job. I like it too, so I don't mind." he replied, "I don't know if you can really say anything about it, ANGEL an' WILLOW. Your parents must have been high or something."  
  
  
Willow laughed goodnaturedly, "Yeah, with 6 years between us, you'd think I'd at least get a better name. Oh well. I'm not complaining. So Angel, lets get your bags so we can get back to the apartment so you can see everyone else and we can get ready for the banquet."  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
"Faaaaaith!" Buffy whined, looking at her reflection, "You made me too red!"  
  
  
"Look, B, you asked me to help, so I'm helpin'. The dress is red, and your face is red. You match!" Faith defended her make-up job with pride. Buffy crossed her arms over her tanktop covered chest with a pout.  
  
  
"Just because you are my cousin, doesn't mean I can't kick your ass. Now make it better!" she commanded, handing a pale powder compact to Faith. She rolled her eyes and accepted the compact, going back to work on Buffy's crimson cheeks.  
  
  
Just then the apartment door swung open and Willow's cheerful announcement came flooding into the bathroom.  
  
  
"Buffy! We're here!! Come say hi to Angel!"  
  
  
Faiths giant brown eyes got even bigger, "Angel? Angel Rosenberg is here? Oh god, its been forever since I've seen that hunk! How do I look?"  
  
  
Buffy wrinkled her nose, "Hunk? Don't ever call him a hunk again, that term is so passe! You look fine. You always look fine. NOW FIX THE RED!" she squealed, pounding her fist on the side of the porcelin sink. Willow popped her head in the door.  
  
  
"Hey Buff, oh! Hiya, Faith. You guys gonna come out here and say hello?"   
  
  
Faith didn't need a second invitation, she leapt out the door before Buffy could protest and jumped eagerly into Angel's arms in a bear hug. Willow dodged into the bathroom and shut the door.  
  
  
"What the hell is Faith doing in our apartment?" she demanded, hands planted firmly on her hips as she stared at her best friend through the mirror.   
  
  
"Whoa, Will, relax. She IS my cousin, you know. She's welcome here. Besides, she's giving me a hand with my make up for tonight."  
  
  
"Yeah, which happens to be the same "tonight" that my BROTHER, will be coming here. You know how she practically stalks him." Willow argued  
  
  
"Look, Angel has never minded her. In fact, I think he LIKES the attention. We all grew up together, and Faith was part of the gang, despite her obsession with Angel, so please don't act like a bitch about this." Buffy pleaded impatiently, putting a final touch on her make up job and turning to glare at her friend. Willow nodded sarcastically, and gave her a final look before turning and leaving the bathroom. Buffy glanced at herself in the mirror briefly, stuck on a happy face, and bounded out the door.  
  
  
"Angel! Hey you! Wow, you look incredible!" she gushed, finding him leaning nonchalantly against the counter, Faith leaning against the other side, fixated on whatever he was blabbering about. He straightened when he heard Buffy and opened his arms for yet another inevitable hug.  
  
  
"Buffy! Speaking of incredible!" he complimented, crushing her tiny body against his chest. Faith pouted at the warm hug, and tossed her hair defiantly to get his attention again. Spike smirked from his perch on the opposite counter.  
  
  
"Someone's getting jealous." he whispered to Faith in a sing-song voice. She shot him a dirty look.  
  
  
"Yeah, YOU. Angel gets more action than you do." she said smartly, turning her attention back to the man of her dreams as he released her cousin from the bone-crunching hug, "So, Angel, how's San Fran?" she purred.  
  
  
Willow rolled her eyes with annoyance and grabbed a six pack of beers from the fridge, pushing herself up on the counter next to Spike as she opened them. He reached for one. She smacked his hand. He reached for one again. She pinched him. He yelped in pain. Buffy gave them both a look that screamed "Stop being immature!!" Willow frowned at this. Spike just smirked and reached for a beer again. Willow slapped him again. Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled a beer from Willow's six pack and handed it to Spike, who beamed at her and popped the cap off happily. Willow turned tense with her annoyance. All the while Faith remained oblivious, too wrapped up in what Angel was chatting about, and Angel trying to sound intelligent to impress the Beauty that Buffy had become.  
  
  
"Hey! We only have another hour, we had better get ready!" Buffy exclaimed eagerly after listening to Angel's boorishly long description of life in San Francisco, "Faith, ready to do my hair?"  
  
  
"Mmm, nope! I think I'll just stay here and talk to Angel.." Faith mumbled distractedly, leaning more langurously across the counter towards Angel, her breasts swelling attractively under her clingling black shirt. Willow hopped off the counter and glared at Faith coldly.  
  
  
"Faith, hunny? Your boobs are hanging out of your tank top." she said in a mockingly sweet voice. Angel looked at his little sister smugly, with a look of fake innocence, clearly pleased with the show of cleavage. She backhanded his shoulder and frowned disprovingly at him. Sucking in a breath, he stood up straighter, trying to make amends with his annoyed sister.  
  
  
"Soo, Spike, you going to the banquet thingy tonight?" he said, trying a clean slate. Spike shook his head,  
  
  
"Nadda, mate. I'm 25,and I'm not dating, or related to any seniors who are going."  
  
  
"Spike's dating Cordelia Chase from highschool, remember her?" Willow explained, handing a beer to her brother. Angel nodded.  
  
  
"Yeah, but wasn't she dating Xander Harris, our next door neighbor?"  
  
  
"They dated in highschool a little bit, yeah. Xander met a cute gal named Anya at school though. She's still a senior, like us, but they got married a couple of months ago. I do believe you were sent an invitation but never responded?" Willow said, giving her brother a pointed look. He rubbed the back of his neck hesitantly  
  
  
"Yeah...well, Xander and I were never that close. But if it would have been any of your guys' weddings, I would be there, you know that. And if it were Buffy's wedding I'd come down to try to break it up." he smiled at the tiny blonde standing in the door way. She blushed at his flirting and glanced away.  
  
  
"Yeah, well, no marriage for me anytime soon. I haven't found the guy I want to marry yet." she said softly, her eyes flitting up to Spike briefly before falling to the floor again. Spike noticed the emotional look and frowned briefly before ignoring it to continue the conversation.  
  
  
"But she is dating someone. None other than Riley 'Whitebread' Finn. One of your old buds, Angel." Spike laughed, hopping off the counter as he took the final swig of the stolen beer. Angel's eyes bugged out in astonishment.  
  
  
"You're dating RILEY? Boy I'll tell ya. Summers women never cease to amaze me." he laughed, eyes sparkling at Buffy and then Faith. Faith stretched like a sexual cat under his look, while Buffy squirmed uncomfortablly.  
  
  
"Speaking of the Captain Cardboard- he'll be here in 45 minutes, so I suggest you ladies do your girly thing so that our Princess Buffy is ready to go." Spike said warmly, moving towards Buffy and putting his hands on her tiny shoulders, steering her to the bathroom, "Faith come on, girl, you gotta do her magesty's hair so she looks dashing for tonights event." he urged, grabbing Faith's hand that was starting to wander towards Angel's. He pulled both girls away, depositing them in the bathroom to finish their thing and then waved to Angel and Willow as he left, smiling at their sibling bickering as they got ready for the formal party. 


	4. Dates

Angel pulled the door open with flourish when the bell rang exactly 45 minutes later.   
  
  
"Riley! Hey man, how are you?" he greeted his old friend, clapping him on the suited back while shaking his hand. Riley smiled wide,  
  
  
"Hey, Will told me you'd be in town for tonight's formal. I gotta say I find it rather sad that I have to find out about your visits through your little sister instead of you picking up the phone and letting me know yourself!" Riley scolded, punching him teasingly in the arm.  
  
  
"Yeah, well, sorry about that, Ry. Busy career and all that." Angel shook his head with shame, the smile still happily in place.  
  
  
"So what brings you down here to attend a little senior's charity banquet with a bunch of college kids?" Riley asked, moving towards the kitchen and putting the flowers down on the counter with little fanfare.  
  
  
"Is that disdain I hear dripping from your voice? Too old to be attending a college kid's formal? I wouldn't be complaining, Riley, I've seen your date and I'd kill to be the one to take her." Angel sighed, slumping down on a stool next to him and looking at his old friend with serious eyes. Riley pulled his head back with astonishment.  
  
  
"You got eyes for my girl, Angel Rosenberg? Too bad. You didn't notice her when we were growing up, can't have her now."  
  
  
"Hey, you didn't notice her when we were growing up either. She was just my little sister's best friend. Now she's...Buffy Summers, complete hottie and sweetheart." Angel defended himself vainly, "Spike and Xander always noticed her though, even though they were our age and our friends."  
  
  
"Spike and her are best friends now. Completely inseperable. I'd be a jealous boyfriend if it weren't for him being disinterested in her and into his own hottie of a girlfriend, and her....affections towards me." Riley blushed slightly, giving Angel a smug look.   
  
  
"Oooh, got her in the sack, eh? Bet she's good. Almost as good as her cousin would be!" Angel laughed, slapping his knee with amusement. Faith slid out of the bathroom at the noise and approached predatorially.  
  
  
"Did I hear something about good cousins?" she purred, sliding close to Angel. He looked down at her with hooded eyes full of lust,  
  
  
"Yeah, baby, you any good?" he murmered down at her, teasing, his warm breath tickling her face seductivly.   
  
  
"You better believe it." she grinned evilly, her hips starting to swivel temptingly against his leg, fingers dancing up his arms, "I could ride you like you've never been ridden before. Squeeze you, grind you, fuck you into oblivion. You've never had it as good as I am." her voice dropped even lower than normal, the sultry tones making Angel groan.  
  
  
"Faith!!" Buffy's shout interrupted the erotic haze. Buffy stood in the doorway of the bathroom watching her temptress of a cousin, her dress glowing around her body and her hair in a mass of shimmering curls. Willow stood behind her, fuming at the scene, "Down girl!" Buffy scolded her cousin.   
  
  
Faith's full lips quirked in a familiar pout as she backed away from Angel, tossing her hair defiantly once again and grabbing a beer. Riley jumped up in awe at the vision of his girlfriend swathed in crimson chiffon.   
  
  
"Oh god, Buffy, you look...wow, you look...great." he gushed, rushing forward to brush a gentle kiss over her shimmering lips. She beamed back at him.  
  
  
"I must concur. You look breathtaking, " Angel added, eyes full of sincerity. Faith scoffed, and Willow "*ahem*ed" to get his attention, "And Willow Rosenberg, gosh darn it, you shame the family name with your intense beauty!" he amended, taking in the sight of his sister wrapped in form-fitting pine green silk, "In fact, I don't think I shall let any other men look at you the entire evening!"  
  
  
Willow laughed and slapped him on his arm, before pulling on his tuxedo collar to urge him to mouth level, "Your corsage for me is in the fridge. I bought myself one. Go get it for me, bro." she whispered in his ear. He smiled at her and strode quickly to the kitchen, pulling out a beautiful white rose corsage with sprigs of pine. Willow winked at him, as he pulled it out of the box and wrapped it gently around her tiny wrist.  
  
  
"That reminds me! Flowers for you, Sweetie!" Riley said dramatically, grabbbing the huge bouquet of flawless orchids and roses and presenting them to Buffy. She squealed and clapped her hands,   
  
  
"Oh you remembered! Spike told me he'd tell you, and you remembered! You are the sweetest boyfriend of all time!" she  
purred sweetly, pulling him down to kiss him. Riley didn't try to correct her. Who was he to destroy her affections, even if he wasn't really the sweetest boyfriend of all time?  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---   
  
  
Spike was just about to stick his key in the lock of his apartment when sound of unhappy sniffing reached his attentive ears. It was definitly female, coming from the staircase that spiralled up through the posh apartment building. He sighed deeply, cursing himself for being both curious and caring, and crept quietly to the stairway to peer down through the metal grate steps.   
  
  
She was hunched in a ball on the floor below him, her head buried in her knees, delicate arms covering her head, while fingers moved absently in grief. Spike would recognize those fluttering fingers and silky ash brown hair anywhere.  
  
  
"Tara...." he began, moving briskly down the steps to sit next to her, his eyes wide with concern, "God, wha's wrong?"   
  
  
She raised her head in surprise, which quickly melted back into sorrow again when she recognized her neighbor and friend. Her high cheekbones glistened with tears, wide hazel eyes bloodshot under long lashes.  
  
  
"He br-broke up with me. Just n-now. Right before the banquet t-t-tonight. I was l-looking so forwa-ard to g-g-going, " she stuttered, wiping at her rosy cheeks and taking great sniffs again, "The b-bastard."  
  
  
Spike nodded in understanding and sympathy, playing absently with his key ring as he listened to her, his eyes still trained seriously on her quivering form.  
  
  
"Which boyfriend was this?" he asked. He had helped Tara with a few of her classes, since she took what he had when he was in college. Everynow and then she had filled him in on her personal life during their tutoring sessions, but those times were few and far between. She glared at him when his quiet question sunk in.  
  
  
"Spike, I've only had t-two boyfriends EVER. S-s-so don't "which boyfriend was this?" m-me." her eyes shot fire at him. He raised his hands in surrender.  
  
  
"Sorry, love, just curious. This would be...Ford, right?" he asked, trying desperatly to remember so as to not lose any of his parts when she got angry at him for not remembering. The several crystal tears that spilled down her porcelin skin at his name confirmed it.  
  
  
"Yeah. Ford." she whispered. Spike watched her for a moment before slapping his legs with decision and standing up, offering her his hands so she could do the same. She took them hesitantly, looking at him suspiciously.  
  
  
"I will take you to the sodding banquet. I have an emergancy tux for situations like this, when I 'ave to rescue the damsel in distress." he sighed, releasing her hands. She arched an eyebrow at him.  
  
  
"Why are you being so nice?"  
  
  
"Love, I'm offended! 'M always nice." he pouted in mock hurt. She gave him another skeptical eyebrow lift. He crumbled, "yeah, okay, I'm just feeling friendly today. An' don't tell anyone this, but I kinda wanted to go anyway. Jus' didn't have a senior to take. So your misfortune happens to be your luck, because you get to go with the best looking man in Sunnydale."   
  
  
She couldn't prevent the rippling chime of a giggle that rose from her chest. "Alright, Spike, I'll g-go with you. I'll be ready in 10 minutes. Can you d-do that well?" she teased.  
  
  
"Yup, I'll be ready in 9." he laughed, jumping up the steps to his floor.  
  
  
"Spike",she called up to him. He stopped and leaned over the railing to look at her, "Thanks s-so much. This really means....it really means a lot." she said sincerely. He smiled and nodded at her, and leapt to his room to put himself in his blasted penguin suit.  
  
  
11 minutes later, they were out the door, laughing it up like old friends. Spike's immature and secret eagerness to go to the banquet making Tara joyous, sweeping the clouds of her sudden breakup away.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
"This is Spike. I'm not answering my soddin' phone right now, prob'bly because I looked at the Caller ID and saw it was you. Leave one. Ciao."  
  
*beep*  
  
"Spike? Its Cordy. Um, its almost 7:30, and you said you were gonna be at my place by 7. I called your cell phone, but my guess is you forgot it on your dresser. Again. So call me babe. We had plans tonight. *sigh* Bye." 


	5. Banquet

Sorry about the delays, guys and gals! I have this whole timing thing posting chapters with SA.com, plus two beta readers that I get the okay's from first.   
  
  
Special thanks to my beta's, Flames and Eve, who are so helpful and encouraging.   
  
  
Hope you all enjoy!  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
  
The lobby of Founder's Hall was decked out in the finest of decorations, a clear reflection on the beautifully dressed seniors and their dates who filled it. Willow, Angel, Riley, and Buffy were seated at a small table under the sweeping staircase that seemed to run majestically to the heavens. Angel cordially pulled a chair out for his younger sister who flashed him an impressed smile as she sat, and then he cleared his throat pointedly when he saw Buffy eying Riley with expectation. Riley jumped and quickly pulled the elegant chair out for his blonde girlfriend, casting on her a sweet grin that made her glow once again.  
  
  
"Oh, wow, does everything look nice." Willow commented, her green eyes gazing at the great golden dome of a ceiling, watching the reflection of candlelight on the fountain water dance across its arches.  
  
  
"All of this in the name of charity!" Angel whistled, playing with his crystal goblet and silver spoon. Willow smacked his hand.  
  
  
"Behave! You're used to the finer things in life, I don't expect you to embarrass me!" she scolded her mischievous older brother. Buffy smiled at the two.  
  
  
"And it isn't just about charity, it's about the goddamn awesome-ness that is us seniors!" she stated, nodding her head in undeniable truth. Angel's lips curled in a warm grin. Damn, she was cute.  
  
  
"Hear, hear!" Willow heartily agreed, picking up her water glass and holding it to the center, where Buffy met it soundly with her own, the loud clink making both girls giggle.  
  
  
"Two more places, " Riley said softly, pointing to the two empty place settings along the curve of the small table, "Buffy, pick up the cards and see who's supposed to be sitting with us."  
  
Buffy leaned over, and plucked the gold-leafed paper from the porcelain plates, and twisted it in her fingers to read the beautiful script. Her face turned ash grey as she dropped the card abruptly back onto the setting. Just then, the two other missing table members showed up.  
  
  
"Buffy! What a pleasant surprise! We get to sit with Buffy Summers!" Parker Abram's sickeningly fake polite voice answered Willow and Riley's question of whose name was on the card. Angel looked between their hostile faces and Buffy's ashen one with confusion.  
  
  
"You all know my girlfriend, Harmony Kendall. I believe she grew up here in Sunnydale, and went to school with all of you?" Parker continued, sitting down next to Buffy and patting the chair next to him for Harmony to sit. She plopped down with little grace.  
  
  
"Hey Willow! Hi, Buffy. What's with the dead look? You really should see someone about that." she squeaked, her nasal voice grating on everyone's nerves already.  
  
  
"Oh, Buff? Don't worry about her. She's just excited to be spending the evening with me." Parker laughed smugly, knowing full-well that Buffy was in complete agony that he was sitting next to her, most likely reliving the emotional trauma she'd gone through after their one night of sex and her mistaken impression it had meant something. Served her right for having sex in the first week of college…He smiled at the memory of her lonely face and slung an arm over the back of her chair, "Isn't that right, Beautiful?"  
  
  
Riley and Angel both growled at the same time, Riley's arm coming up to push Parker's chair, and Angel beginning to stand.  
  
  
"Well, well, well, looks like quite the confrontation is happening here. Don' know if we should interrupt or not. Wha' do you think, Tara?" the familiar English accent floated into the tension. Parker quickly pulled his hand back, and turned to face the tuxedo-decked Spike.  
  
  
"What the hell are you doing here, Sheffield?" Parker asked, his dark eyebrows squinting in annoyance. Spike laughed and pointed sophisticatedly to the girl on his arm. Tara smiled gently, though fire was in her eyes. She knew exactly who, and what Parker Abrams was, and was thrilled with herself that she'd never been one of the freshmen that had fallen into his seductive trap.   
  
  
"Brought the Lady, she lost her date last minute. And um, we're sittin' here." Spike answered, his eyes darting briefly to Buffy, the question lurking in the blue depths, asking if she was okay. She nodded, letting out a sigh of sheer relief. Spike's eyes turned cold as they turned back to Parker, now gaping like a fish.  
  
  
"I think not! Our names are on these cards. We're supposed to sit here. Go find another table." Parker commanded.   
  
  
"Oh! No. Bloody. Way. You mean our names aren't here!?" Spike put his hand over his chest in mock horror. Then his sarcastically astonished expression turned cruel again as he leaned over, pulled a pen from his suitcoat, and scribbled out the names, replacing them with Tara Maclay and William 'I always get what I want' Sheffield, "Now I don't see a problem." he smirked, putting the pen back in his pocket.  
  
  
"You…you...Jerk! We don't have to do what you say!" Harmony stood up, her balloon breasts jutting out from her slender body as she stuck her hands on her hips. Spike merely raised an eyebrow at her as Tara stifled a laugh.  
  
  
"Oh please, Harmony, go yap at someone else." Spike groaned, rolling his eyes. Harmony's heavily made up face turned bright red.  
  
  
"Fine! Parker, lets go...." she whined, grabbing her boyfriends hand and leading him away. Spike grabbed his collar as he passed and pulled him dangerously near his face.  
  
  
"I. Always. Get. What. I. Want. Don't forget it again, pillock." he ground out, pushing Parker away from him in disgust. Parker brushed himself off nervously and followed his airhead date into the crowd of the dance floor. Spike turned back to the table, a proud smile blooming on his face. "Tha'll teach him, eh?"  
  
  
"Spike, you never change, do you?" Angel mused, letting out a laugh and shaking his head in disbelief, "Always the bully in shining armor."  
  
  
"Damn straight. So, Will and Buffy, you guys know Tara, right? Tara, this is Buffy's boyfriend, Riley Finn, and Willow's brother Angel Rosenberg, who now does some financial job in San Francisco. We all grew up together 'ere in Sunnydale, though. Best friends forever, and all that rot, right guys?" Spike made the introductions as he pulled out a chair for Tara. She smiled at each person as she sat down elegantly.  
  
  
"Right, since black-wearing, bleach-hugging, punk-singing British bartenders are our kind of people, and native Californians." Willow teased sarcastically, referring to the clean-cut lines of her and the rest of her Californian-born friends.  
  
  
"'Ey now! One, black is an ARTISTIC color t'be wearing. Two, my hair looks GOOD like this. Three, I sing EVERYTHING, not just punk. And four, I was raised in England, came here at 12, kept the accent because the birds liked it. Oh yes, five, bartenders are hot!" Spike defended himself as he sat, counting off on his fingers, a mock-serious scowl on his face. Everyone at the table roared with laughter, causing the chilliness of Parker's presence to flee their minds.  
  
  
The three couples at the table never ceased the warm laughter, even as the evening wore on. Dinner was served and eagerly consumed, and the DJ soon began spinning the modern tunes to get the dance floor full again. Riley pulled Buffy to the floor, his face twisted in an adorably shy expression that made her heart melt. Angel was dragged out by his fiery little sister who was quickly whisked away by another guy while he wandered to the charity table to see how much money was going into this affair. Spike politely danced with Tara, her face aglow with contentment as they swayed to a slow song. Buffy caught his eye as they danced, the dim light radiating from her dress and skin.   
  
  
He was so proud of her. A strange kind of pride... A kind that was fatherly, but brotherly; friendly, but distant. It was as if he could see her as every kind of person, and he respected every part he saw. Her encounter with Parker tonight boiled his blood. He remembered back when she had burst into his apartment, her eyes puffy with tears, her face flushed from too much drinking. She had collapsed on his bed next to him, sobbing about how she had spent the night with Parker and it turned out to be "just for fun" for him. Spike had carefully pulled her drunk and regretful body into his lap and rocked her to a sob-shuddered sleep, smoothing her hair and whispering words of comfort as he lay her down, and tucked his sheets around her. She woke later that night, the tears trailing down her cheeks again as she retold the sordid seduction story, beginning to end, as he listened with a heavy heart. She thought Spike would have been ashamed of her, but he reassured her of his respect, and drove her home, sharing in her sadness that she had given away her virginity so vainly. Then he'd driven to the campus, found Parker, and proceeded to give him the fist-fight of his life.   
  
  
Now there she was, dancing with her boyfriend, Parker only a few feet away with his own dumb girlfriend and yet Buffy was shining with happiness. She'd struggled for a few minutes when Spike had first arrived, but she had strength now. God, was she incredible…   
  
  
"Spike?" Tara's soft, melodious voice broke through his thoughts. He noticed she had stopped dancing with him, and only held him loosely. Then he noticed the shy-looking young man standing next to her, "Jonathon asked to cut in. Is that alright?"  
  
  
"Sure, pet…'ave fun." he smiled, letting the short man timidly take her hands and pull her into a gentle dance-embrace. He fixed his eyes on his best friend again, dodging quietly through the swaying people towards her and tapping Riley on his broad shoulder. "May I cut in, Whitebread? I'd like to dance with the Lady."  
  
  
Riley looked at him with annoyance for a moment before nodding his head, and removed his huge body from Buffy's. Buffy looked at Spike with anticipation as he smiled at her and slid his arm around her waist.  
  
  
"You look like a goddess tonight, Buffy." he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. She slid her tiny hand into his Michelangelo one, and gazed up at him.  
  
  
"Thanks. You look sharp too." she grinned. Then her eyes turned serious, "Thank you so much for showing up when you did. I don't know how it was possible, but you were there when I needed you, once again."  
  
  
"You would 'ave been alright, Love. Angel was just about to strut his poofy stuff, and Riley wouldn't 'ave let it go on...You 'ad your mates."  
  
  
"They aren't you though." she whispered, looking away from his bottomless blue eyes as she laid her head on his shoulder. He stopped dancing and pulled away from her slightly to look into her face.  
  
  
"Wha'do you mean by that?" he asked quietly, his fingers curling around her chin to urge her to look at him. Her hazel doe eyes slid to his again.  
  
  
"I just mean that they don't know...how badly Parker hurt me. They know I was upset, but not that...it was a life-changing moment that was destroyed forever, and that not a day goes by that I don't feel it. And about how it's amplified 100 times whenever I'm near him." she whispered, her eyes turning watery, but far from spilling over.  
  
  
"You're near 'im now and you're alright." Spike pointed out softly.  
  
  
"Only 'cause I'm with you." she said in the faintest, weakest whisper. He took a deep breath that caught in his throat, and pulled her back into his arms, wrapping her in a fierce hold. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of being encompassed by his body, her cheek pressed against his crisp suited shoulder, her arms banded around his narrow waist. It felt right. Like chick-flick right. Shakespeare right. Fairy-tale right.  
  
  
No. Not romance right. Best-Friend-Forever right. Right? 


	6. Parting

Chapter Six  
  
  
  
"Welcome home, you party animals!" Faith's sultry voice greeted Willow, Buffy, and Angel as they entered the apartment. Willow's smiling face quickly turned to a frown at the sight of Faith sprawled provocatively across the couch, her booted feet propped on the coffee table.  
  
  
"Faith...you're still here. How wonderful." Willow said drolly, pulling off her shaw and hanging it on the coat hooks.   
  
  
"Yeah, I decided to stick around, and visit for a bit more." she laughed, eyeing Angel and licking her plush red lips. Angel smiled lazily at her, the buzz of champagne causing him to be even more lustful than usual. Willow elbowed him in the ribs, giving him a disproving scowl. He shrugged his shoulders and mouthed 'what?'. She shook her head with annoyance.  
  
  
"Well, its time to push off, Faith." she said pointedly, grabbing Faith's light denim jacket from the other hook and tossing it across the living room to her.  
  
  
"You can come with me to my hotel, babe." Angel slurred slightly, loosening his bowtie as he eyed Faith's curves. Her face suddenly lit up, full of eagerness and she leapt up from the couch, jacket in hand, and sidled next to his muscular form. Willow gaped in astonishment.  
  
  
"Have fun, you guys!" Buffy called jovially from the kitchen, watching Angel and her cousin slide out the door, arms banded around each other. They pulled the door shut with a final click, and instantly Willow whirled around to face Buffy with anger.  
  
  
" "Have fun, you guys" ? What the hell are you thinking!?" she shouted, planting her hands on her slender hips as she glared at her best friend. Buffy put up her hands in an innocent expression.  
  
  
"Whoa, Will, relax. They both like each other, despite how much you obviously hate my cousin. Let them have some happiness." Buffy mumbled, sipping on a water bottle as she walked to her bedroom.  
  
  
"Its easy to hate her. She's a bitch. A ten-cent whore that I don't want anywhere near my brother!" Willow said angrily, her eyes flashing.  
  
  
"Would you like to offend me some more by saying some more shit about my family!?" Buffy stopped walking and stared at Willow.  
  
  
"It's not shit, Buffy, its the goddamn truth."  
  
  
"I think this is all a jealousy thing. You don't want your brother getting any if you're not getting any." Buffy snapped, cocking her head to the side. Willow let out a cold bark of laughter.  
  
  
"Yeah right! What do you know about it?" she dared, her left eyebrow arching skeptically.  
  
  
"Faith and Angel, me and Riley, Anya and Xander, Spike and Cordy. You feel left out. We are all happy, and you are not." Buffy proposed, hands planted firmly on her hips. Willow smiled cruelly.  
  
  
"Happy, huh? You aren't happy with Riley, Buff... You are in love with Spike. I know it. You know it. I saw the way you were dancing with him tonight, the way you gaze into his eyes, and send him wistful looks. Happy with Riley my ass." Willow shot back, folding her arms in front of her and jutting her chin out. Buffy opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out.  
  
  
"But thats not the point. The point is, I don't want Faith here anymore." Willow finished, turning to head towards her bedroom.  
  
  
"This isn't your apartment, Willow, its ours, and as part of my family, she is welcome here." Buffy argued quietly.  
  
  
"Didn't you listen to what I said about her?" Willow asked increduously, "She's screwed up! No! She cannot be here anymore."  
  
  
"Well then I guess I can't be here anymore either."  
  
  
"You're moving out?"  
  
  
"If that's what it takes. You are being a tight-ass about this Faith thing."  
  
  
"And you are being a tight-ass about your feelings for Spike."  
  
  
"That has nothing to do with Faith! Stop bringing it up!" Buffy shouted, her face flaming.  
  
  
"I'll stop messing with your gross emotional problems when you stop messing with mine. I want you to respect the way I feel about Faith, and you're not!" Willow sighed, looking at Buffy with sadness.  
  
  
"It's hard to respect someone when their feelings are so illogical and immature." Buffy countered.  
  
  
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Willow said pointedly.  
  
  
"Well then its a stalemate. You can't deal with Faith. I can't deal with your attitude towards her. The end. I'll get my stuff packed up tomorrow." Buffy said softly, tears leaking into the finality of her statement.  
  
  
"Okay then." Willow whispered in hurt.   
  
  
And they both retreated to their rooms to change into their pj's and have a good cry.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
Spike entered his dark apartment and sighed with content. It had been a wonderful evening. Good food, good company, and lots of sarcastic jokes that spurred joyful laughter. Tara glowed the whole time, only remembering her recent break-up when Spike walked her to her apartment door where she found a note from Ford telling Tara that he had taken all of his stuff from her apartment and that her key was on the counter inside. She sniffed back her tears and forced a smile as she thanked Spike for the good time, and then faded into her apartment to confront its emptiness.  
  
  
Spike smiled sadly at the memory of her face. She was a wonderful person though, she'd get through this break up with her feet on the ground. He flipped on a light and jumped a mile in the air when he saw Cordelia sitting on his bed with a pissed off expression on her pretty face.  
  
  
"Cordelia! Goddamn it! Way to give me a heart attack, pet!" he cursed, putting his hand over his rapidly beating heart.  
  
  
"William, I am going to give you 3 guesses as to why I am here, and why I am ready to rip your nuts off and shove them down your throat." she said cooly, crossing her legs and leaning back elegantly.  
  
  
"Um..." Spike began, his mind racing frantically to figure out what he'd done wrong as he pulled off his bowtie and shrugged off his suitcoat.  
  
  
"Fuck it." she muttered and sat up, "I'm angry because we had plans tonight, and you blew me off!" she shouted.  
  
  
"Oh, god, Cord, 'm so sorry, I completely forgot." he sighed, sitting down on the bed next to her and wrapping a muscular arm around her back, his thumb absently running up and down her side.  
  
  
"Where were you?" she asked, turning her head to look at his profile, hurt replacing her proud expression.  
  
  
"Tara Maclay's boyfriend broke up with her right before the banquet tonight, so I offered to take 'er. I had kinda wanted to go to the banquet anyway, so it worked out well. I should 'ave called you." he explained, putting his other hand on her knee. She set her hand on top of it and interlaced their fingers.  
  
  
"If you had wanted to go to the banquet you should have told me. My store was sponsoring it, we could have gotten free tickets, and then I'd have been able to go with you." she said softly.  
  
  
"I should 'ave told you, you're right." he said regretfully, looking into her wide brown eyes.  
  
  
"So how about we reschedule. Tomorrow night?" she asked hopefully.  
  
  
"Eh, I can't, Love. I'm working." he sighed. She drew her hand away from his.  
  
  
"Tomorrow night is usually one of your nights off!" she said in confusion, her perfect eyebrows scrunching together as she stared at her boyfriend.  
  
  
"Yeh, usually. But Buffy was asked to fill in for someone, so I volunteered to work with 'er. I like to be there when she is, jus' to keep an eye on the thugs that 'ang out there."  
  
  
"She can take care of herself, Spike, you don't need to protect her." Cordy argued.  
  
  
"I know, it jus' makes me feel better, is all." Spike said, clueless at how angry Cordelia was becoming until she suddenly jumped up from the bed and began to pace in front of him, winding her beautifully manicured fingers around each other in an anxious motion.  
  
  
"It makes you feel better. You have to be there for Buffy. Buffy, Buffy, Buffy. Sure, you took Tara to the banquet tonight for Tara's sake, but you went because Buffy would be there. If I didn't know better, I would think you were in love with Buffy." Cordelia gasped outloud as she paced. Spike jumped up and put his hands on her shoulders to stop her movement.  
  
  
"Cordelia, I am not in love with Buffy. She is my best friend. I love her, but not like that. You are my girl, I swear." he said seriously, his rain-washed blue eyes beseeching her to calm down. She licked her lips and took a deep breath, staring up at him with just as much seriousness.  
  
  
"Prove it."   
  
  
"Wha'?" Spike asked, his eyes squinting in confusion.  
  
  
"Prove I am your one and only. That you don't love anyone else but me." she commanded.  
  
  
"Al'right. How?" he asked. She answered by pulling away from his grip and pulling off her shirt as she headed for the bed.  
  
  
"Make love to me." she said sternly, laying herself out on his black sheets. He swallowed hard and gazed at her body with adoration. She shimmied out of her sleek linen skirt and tossed it to the floor. Now she was clad in only her pink lace underwear and bra, her skin shining angeliclly in the dim light. Spike sucked in a breath, but his heart didn't flip-flop. It stayed quiet, beating lightly, if not only a little faster in masculine arousal.  
  
  
"Come on Spike." she pleaded, her eyes starting to fill up as she saw him distance himself.  
  
  
"Cordelia Chase, you are gorgeous. But its not time...please don't take this the wrong way, Love, please..understand." he begged, his own eyes turning watery as she choked back a sob, and began to scramble to put on her clothing again.  
  
  
A moment later she was dressed and brushing a soft kiss across his lips before whispering, "Thank you Spike, for everything." and pressing his key into his palm. He turned to her retreating back,  
  
  
"Its over?" he said rasply.  
  
  
"Its been over for a while. Its okay. See you around, William." she looked back at him over her shoulder and smiled faintly, and then disappeared through the door, leaving Spike to sit with his thoughts.  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC very very soon... 


	7. RoomMates

Another day, another section. Sorry I haven't been real regular with these updates. I have the beta thing happening, plus some other fics in the air, and obligations to other fic writers. But at least I'm still working on this one!  
  
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Buffy awoke to the sound of a commanding voice and another voice's uneasy questions coming from the living room. Sighing in frustration, -it was way too early to be up on a Sunday- she shuffled from her room to see what the hubbub was about.  
  
  
"What is going on?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes to focus on the mess in front of her. Tons of cardboard boxes flooded the living room, set on every surface, all open and being filled by Willow and their neighbor down the hall, Percy.  
  
  
"Well, hello, Sleeping Beauty. Sorry if we woke you. I'm just helping Willow here move out." Percy greeted her, lifting a stack of fuzzy blankets and a long stuffed snake and pushing them into a box.  
  
  
"Willow moving out?" Buffy gasped in astonishment, her sleep-tinged eyes turning to Willow who was emerging from the kitchen with a box full of appliances, "I thought I was moving out?"  
  
  
"Yeah, but then I thought about it some more, and I figured it was my problem so I should be the one to go. That way you can just find a roommate and I can stay with my brother at his hotel while I hunt for an apartment. Sounds good, right? Good." Willow explained shortly, taping up the cardboard flaps of the box and stacking it with other sealed ones.  
  
  
"Oh." was all Buffy could reply. Percy gave her a sympathetic and apologetic smile before jumping back to attention when Willow pointed at the stack and then pointed to the hall, indicating that he was to put his muscles to use. Willow turned her gaze to Buffy, her face full of sadness, and her lips quirked in an "oh well" expression. It was a brief moment; the two best friends shared the same hurt but also the knowledge that this was the right thing to do. Willow turned back to her packing, and Buffy, shivering, retreated to the bathroom to take a scalding shower to wash away the grief on her heart.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
"I need a roommate." Buffy announced as she pushed open the intricately designed French doors to the studio of Revamp Designs, Inc.  
  
  
"Well you can't move in with us." Anya replied bluntly, not even looking up from the sketches she was poring over. Xander poked his head out from the back room.  
  
  
"Why do you need a roommate? What happened to Will?" he asked with concern. Buffy's face lit up,   
  
  
"Xander! You're back!" she shouted, rushing at him and jumping into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder. "I missed you."   
  
  
"I got back last night, and was going to bring my lovely wife to the senior's charity banquet since I helped sponsor it and all, but said wife decided she wanted to stay home and engage in...Other…activities," he grinned, setting Buffy back down on her feet. She smiled knowingly at the other activities, the two of them glancing at Anya, who remained oblivious. "So what's this about a roommate?"  
  
  
"Willow and I had a fight. I said I was going to move out, but when I woke up this morning, she and Percy were already shoulder-deep in packing Will's stuff." Buffy recalled as she plopped down on a plush leather chair. Xander sat on the ottoman in front of her, looking at her seriously.  
  
  
"What was the fight about?"  
  
  
"Faith. You know how she digs Angel, right? Well, Angel's in town, and Faith has been hanging out at our place more than usual. Willow hates Faith on a normal level most of the time, but when Angel's around, her hate is stronger, like, ten-fold. But it's my apartment, too, you know? Faith is my cousin, for goodness sake; she's allowed to be there. But noooo, Willow can't stand her and demands that she no longer be allowed at OUR apartment. So we argued, deciding that someone should move out, and now she is going to stay with Angel at his hotel until she finds a new place."  
  
  
Buffy slouched back into the cushions with exhaustion after her explanation, looking up at Xander with a pout, "So what do you think?"  
  
  
"I think," Xander began taking a big breath, "that both of you have legitimate reasons for arguing. I think the whole moving out thing is a bit extreme, but absence does make the heart grow fonder, and with distance you two are most likely to forgive and forget."  
  
  
"When did you get so smart?" Buffy said suspiciously, one eyebrow rising as a grin blossomed on her pink lips.  
  
  
"I was quoting like every Hallmark saying about forgiveness and long-distance friendships, duh!" he laughed, patting her knee in a friendly gesture as he stood up.  
  
  
"Hey, where are you going?" Buffy whined, "We weren't finished with girl-talk yet!"  
  
  
"Sorry, Buff, but I've got a business to run. Revamp is the most popular interior designing company on this side of LA. Plus my wife looks completely delicious over here and I just have to kiss her before I explode."  
  
  
"And boy does he explode!" Anya said in her usual sexual innuendo as she tilted head back to except the sweet, but passionate, kiss from her handsome husband. Buffy stuck her tongue out and squinted her eyes in a 'blech!' expression, even as her heart rejoiced that the two of them were so happy together.  
  
  
"Well fine then, I'll just go. I gotta be at work in an hour anyway. Don't forget that roommate thing, okay, guys? Keep your eyes and ears out for someone who can afford the rent and stuff..." she said, grabbing her jacket and purse from the chair as she stood up. She glanced up at the couple making out, "Helloooo Harris's, are you listening to me?" No answer. "Okay, have fun WORKING, Xander."  
  
  
She gave them a last happy look and smile, and then slipped out of the office quietly. They didn't miss her.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
Buffy sat in the back break room at the Bronze, hastily scribbling out an advertisement for a roommate. It contained only the basics- her name, the cost of living, and her phone number, plus a little asterisk asking for a female, non-smoker, around 21, who was responsible and clean. Okay, so it wasn't basic, it was nitpicky, but she didn't want just some random drug-dealing whore or anything. It was going to be hard replacing someone like Willow she thought with a sigh, tossing the ad to the trashcan and trying again.  
  
  
"Whatcha doin' pet?" Spike's voice interrupted her frustration. She turned in the rickety old chair to look at him come in. Something about him was different today. His eyes weren't as bright, his posture wasn't as proud, and his voice was still silky and low, but it was somehow a little duller than usual.  
  
  
"What's the matter?" she asked, watching him shed his duster and stuff his messenger bag into his cubby.  
  
  
"I should be askin' you the same thing." he said, glancing at her, "You seem diff'rent. You're eyes are all sad, you're sittin' all pouty, an' your voice is tired."  
  
  
"I asked you first." she said, covering up her surprise that his words mirrored her thoughts of him.  
  
  
"Cordelia an' I broke up." he said quietly, his head low.   
  
  
"Oh, god, Spike, I'm so sorry. When?" she said sympathetically, patting the chair next to her invitingly. He trudged over and collapsed onto it.  
  
  
"Las' night. S'alright, it was a long time coming, we both knew it would end soon. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt though." he sighed, burying his head in his hands. She put her hand on his back and stroked up and down his ridged spine, trying hard not to enjoy his hard curves of muscle that rippled whenever he moved in the slightest. He took a deep breath and sat up again, suddenly back to normal.   
  
  
"So what's this?" he asked curiously, grabbing the paper from the table and scanning the ad.  
  
  
"Willow moved out. We had a fight, and decided that moving out was the best. Don't ask," she said, when she saw him open his mouth, "It's a long story that I don't feel like getting into right now. Anyway, bottom line is: I can't afford that apartment by myself, so I'm looking for a roommate."  
  
  
Spike stared at her for a long moment before looking back down at the ad, and then crumpling into a ball in his fist.  
  
  
"Hey!" she shouted at him, pulling it from his hand and straightening it out, "What the hell did you do that?"  
  
  
"You are not going to put up a ruddy ad to find a roommate, Love. Weirdoes will apply." he said sternly, grabbing it back from her smoothing fingers and crumpling it up again. If looks could kill, he'd be brutally murdered.  
  
  
"You're not my father, Spike. I need a roommate. I think what I'm doing is very responsible, so give it back." she demanded, jumping over onto his lap to grab it from his hand that had wound behind his back.  
  
  
"You are NOT putting out a public statement, Buffy, that's final. My authority as your friend- An' as being older than you!" he shot back. She straddled his legs, glaring at him with an indignant expression as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Ask someone you know." he urged, still clutching the paper behind him.  
  
  
"How about Riley?" she mused aloud, knowing that would make him upset.  
  
  
"No lovers moving in together until engagement point. It's a common courtesy thing, or social rule, or whatnot." he countered, enjoying the pout she displayed.  
  
  
"Tara?" she asked thoughtfully. Spike shook his head.  
  
  
"She has a good job, and can afford the beautiful flat she has. She wouldn't want ta move."  
  
  
"I have a "beautiful flat" too, ya know. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Buffy argued from her perch on his thighs.   
  
  
"Its an al'right place. Not the best. Still, I don' think Tara will move. Wha' about..." he began, looking up at her cautiously. She turned her gaze from its thoughtful searching of the ceiling to his face.  
  
  
"What about who?" she prodded, her arms dropping to the arms of the chair, where his arms lay. She rested her hands quietly on his forearms.  
  
  
"Wha' about me?" he asked seriously. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment.  
  
  
"You?" she nearly squeaked.   
  
  
Living with Spike…She had already admitted to herself she had feelings for him, but she could handle the platonic friendship they had. It was a perfect friendship. But living with him was a whole other story. Waking up to him there, cooking dinner for each other, helping each other with living expenses, him taking showers there. And she KNEW he slept naked. But it wasn't just about his exquisite body, and sky-blue eyes, and dangerously sharp cheekbones. It was about the warm comfortable, but always passionate, meant-to-be feeling she got when he was near. And that was more tempting then his muscles or perfectly suckable bottom lip.  
  
  
"Should I give you time to think about it?" he asked carefully, looking up into her thoughtful face and wide expressive eyes. She gazed back down at him, feeling him between her thighs, and his bare arms under her tiny hands, and his gentle eyes, and that open expression of gentility and caring...  
  
  
"No...I don't need time. I would love for you to be my roommate, Spike." 


	8. Careful

Two weeks later was Spike's moving day. He had all of his stuff waiting patiently at the door of his old apartment for Riley and Adam to come give him a hand. Buffy insisted on getting free help, telling him that it was complete nonsense for him to call a moving company when he only lived a few blocks away. Spike didn't know if he should trust the Finn's with his precious boxes of stuff though. Everyone knew that Spike was an avid art collector. He had some of the most beautiful paintings and sculptures that existed in Sunnydale, and the best part? They were all by him. It was a hidden talent. But only people who came to his place ever saw his work. The artistic pieces were the only things he was shy about. Insult his work, crush his heart.  
  
  
"Riley, PLEASE be careful with that crate!" Spike shouted as Riley heaved a long slender wooden crate to his shoulder and carried it out the door, "An' watch the top on the spiral staircase! You know how narrow those bloody steps are, especially when blokes are as big as you! Riley! Did you hear me?"  
  
  
Adam chuckled and patted Spike on the back in mock comfort, "Spike, man, relax. We're not gonna hurt your precious finger paintings and clay figurines."  
  
  
"I'm not going to even dignify your stupidity with a response." he growled, watching Adam lift a long, flat box which held a framed painting, "Please. Be. Careful!"  
  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Adam groaned quickly, balancing the weight on his shoulder, "I think this will about do it for this load. I'll go ahead and take these to Buffy's and you and Rye can carry the rest down to the curb. I'll unload the truck there, and then be back in a jiffy."  
  
  
Perhaps it was the way that Adam said that statement, how he excited he seemed about going to Buffy's that caused something cold to spread through Spike's chest as he remembered Riley talking about Buffy's discomfort around Adam. Buffy wouldn't want to be alone with him. Spike dashed after the broad man.  
  
  
"Know what Finn; I think I'll go with you. Don' want anything happening to my art. Riley can handle the rest 'ere." He grabbed his jacket on the way out.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
"Spike! None of these boxes have any of the bare necessities in them. Where the hell are your clothes, appliances, personal items?!" Buffy asked as she poked through the boxes the two men were carrying in and setting down around the tiny living room. Spike smirked at her and batted her inquisitive hands away.  
  
  
"I brought the most important things first, love. We're gonna pick up the rest after we unload here." Spike explained, glancing around the room to make sure there was more space for the other boxes. Adam came grunting through the door, carrying one of his heaviest boxed canvases.  
  
  
"You know...that one...you couldn't...carry?" he panted as he struggled to put it down gently, "You...are such...a weakling..." he finally got it down and then rocked back on his heels as he wiped his hands on his jeans with satisfaction. "Good thing you called me. I'm stronger than you and Riley put together!"   
  
  
Buffy glanced up from the crate she was staring into only to find Adam's dull blue, but intent eyes gazing right at her. It made her skin crawl. Spike noticed and started the conversation in another direction.  
  
  
"Buffy, weren't you just telling me the other day that you didn't love Riley for his strength, you loved him because he got stuff done quickly and efficiently?" Spike spoke loudly, turning his eyes to Buffy. She cocked her head to the side.  
  
  
"Spike, I never said I lov-" Spike raised his eyebrow, and then glanced quickly at Adam and then back to her again. Buffy caught on, "Ooooh, yes. I adore a man who gets a job done with speed!"  
  
  
Adam practically flew down the stairs to finish unloading the pick-up truck.  
  
  
"Oh my god, that was so *mean*!" she laughed, shaking her head at Adam's behavior.  
  
  
"So…how come you didn't tell me before 'bout Adam and his crush on you, pet?" Spike asked curiously, watching Buffy as she wandered aimlessly among the crates and cardboard-covered canvases.  
  
  
"I dunno. Maybe because that's exactly what it is- a crush." she shrugged her shoulders, and then looked at him seriously, "People our age don't exactly talk about things as trivial as crushes."  
  
  
"No," Spike replied softly, "I guess they don't."  
  
  
There was barely enough time for conscious emotion to qualify as a 'Moment' before Adam came through the open doorway with the last box.  
  
"Ready to go pick up the next load, Spike?" he asked brightly, eyes darting back and forth between Spike and Buffy. Buffy blushed slightly and moved away quickly, picking at the edge of a box. Spike took a deep breath and smirked at Adam.   
  
  
"Yup, mate, let's go get the rest."  
  
  
--- --- --- --- ---  
  
  
Two hours later, all of Spike's stuff was cluttering the living room. Riley went through each box and carefully cut the tape sealing them, while Spike followed behind him and directed him where to carry each. Buffy began storing all of his other stuff in the closets where the empty space from Willow's belongings had been.   
  
  
"Spike, there isn't enough room in the hall closet, so I'm gonna put this box with all your old journals and class notes in my other closet." Buffy's muffled voice came from her room.   
  
  
Spike raised an eyebrow and called back, "You 'ave two closets in that little bedroom?"  
  
  
"Yup!" she shouted from deep in the depths of the bonus walk-in. She shoved a large bag of clothes out of the way, and then pushed one of Spike's crates into the corner. A sudden shadow fell over the doorway, "Hey, excuse me! You're in my light! Notice there's no light bulb in here!" she turned to face the shadow.  
  
  
"Hey! Just thought you could use a hand lifting that stuff to the shelves!" Adam's cheerful voice came from the silhouette. He entered hastily, crowding her into the blackness of the closet.  
  
  
"Um, I'm not lifting anything; I'm just dumping all of his shit on top of mine." Buffy said in a guarded tone. Adam got closer.  
  
  
"Naw, don't be silly- let me stick it up there." He said, putting one arm around her waist to steady her as he thrust the other arm behind her to grab the box she was struggling with. His fingers closed around her shirt, the tips intruding under its cover and touching the skin of her back.  
  
  
"Adam, I *really* don't need your help." she said angrily, but for some reason her discomfort made her voice sound breathy and hesitant. He stopped tugging at the box and straightened, wrapping his other arm around her waist.  
  
  
"You...you feel it too, right?" he whispered heatedly, looking down at her in the darkness.  
  
  
"Wha'? Feel what? Adam, please..." she gulped, putting her hands against his soft chest and pushing him away. He responded by tightening his grip on her waist.  
  
  
"This…desire between us. I mean, I love my brother and all, but you and me....we are the ones that are meant to be together." He gasped, his breathing picking up as he became aroused at her touch and their closeness in the dim light.  
  
  
"Stop, please, Adam. Let me g-" she was cut off by his lips on her own. It was the incentive she needed to break her out of her helpless confusion. She cocked her fist back and swung it into his cheekbone, effectively breaking his chapped lips from her mouth and causing him to stumble back into the boxes and bags. She leapt out into the light of her bedroom where she ran smack into Spike.  
  
  
"Whoa, pet, you a'right? I came back 'ere to check on you when I didn't hear your whining voice for a while. Figured the closet swallowed you like the big nasty that bonus closets can be and- Love, wha's wrong?" he asked finally when he saw her try to act nonchalant as she fixed her hair and adjusted her clothes. Just then an ashamed Adam with a large purple bruise on his cheek emerged from the closet. Spike knew instantly what had happened.   
  
  
"I guess the party's back here. Are you all taking a break from unpacking and you didn't let me know?" Riley's happy and teasing voice intruded on the angry response Spike had planned. Riley walked in, clueless of what was going on, and wrapped his arms around his tiny girlfriend. "Adam, what the hell happened to you?" he asked when he noticed the bruise.  
  
  
"I, I...um..." he began nervously.  
  
  
"Oh, he was just helping me lift some boxes and one got away from him. He acted like a man though and ignored it." Buffy lied in bright tones, as she turned in her arms to gaze up at her boyfriend. She glanced over her shoulder at Spike, who was fuming inwardly, and then looked at Adam with fake concern, "We're all done in there though now, so you had better go put some ice on that, Adam!"  
  
  
"Actually, what I think I need is a beer. I'm out. Riley, if you want a ride home come with me now." Adam mumbled, and left the apartment without a backward glance.   
  
  
Riley looked down at Buffy with a pitifully, sorry expression, "Damn, I'm gonna have to go now, Sweetie-pie. You guys alright with everything else?"  
  
  
Spike nodded, and Buffy grinned and said yes. Riley reluctantly let her go, and grabbed his jacket in the living room. She walked him to the door.  
  
  
"You know, it's weird that I'm leaving you in an apartment with your new roommate who happens to be a guy. I deserve high marks for being a 'Very Understanding and Trusting Boyfriend' here." he said jokingly, even though there was a hint of concern in his voice. Buffy smiled with understanding as she toyed with the collar of his coat.  
  
  
"Yeah, but its Spike, so you know you don't have to worry. Now give me some kissage." she muttered in her girlish cute tone as she tugged him down to her lips.  
  
  
Two minutes of passionate making-out later, Riley left to find his brother, closing the door behind him with a final click. Buffy turned to face an angry Spike.  
  
  
"Adam made a move on you." he stated coldly. She sighed.  
  
  
"Yeah, he did."   
  
  
"And you didn't tell your boyfriend, who happens to be his brother." Spike continued, eyeing her carefully.  
  
  
"No, I didn't. I can take care of myself. I don't think Adam will try to mess with me again." she said, recalling his shamed face and deep purple bruise. A tiny smile tugged the corners of her mouth.   
  
  
"I'm sure your right. You punched him. I'd say his ego is pretty...non existent right now." Spike replied, before smirking himself. Pretty soon it was an all out laugh coming from both of them. Buffy collapsed onto the couch. He soon fell down next to her.  
  
  
"Jus' promise me something, Buffyluv." he said, blinking away the laugh-tears, and grabbing her hand seriously.  
  
  
"Anything." she responded with loyal friendship as she squeezed his hand reassuringly.  
  
  
"If he makes a move again, you will tell both me and Riley."  
  
  
"I promise." she swore, looking into his blue eyes, "Now lets do some more unpacking." she jumped up off the couch, heading for the boxes that contained his clothes and bedding. He snagged the back of her shirt and pulled her back towards him.  
  
  
"Nu-uh, pet, first things first. My art. We get it out and get it on display. A house isn't a home until 's got some of my creative culture." he said, and then pushed her towards another set of boxes. She looked at him over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him. He growled playfully and then pulled a pillow off the sofa and tossed it at her head as she leaned over to open the box. It hit her head softly, just hard enough to mess up her shimmering wave of hair. She turned and looked at him with astonished outrage.  
  
  
"Why you little!" she cried, grabbing the pillow and hurtling it back at his head. He laughed when he caught it and then lunged forward and brought it down on her backside. She shrieked and giggled as he howled triumphantly.  
  
  
And soon they were on the couch having the craziest pillow fight they had had since they were teenagers.   
  
  
Oh yeah, living with Spike was gonna be great. 


	9. Bonding

A/N- A few major thank-you's before I continue.  
1- Soulvamp--who helped me turn my idea and first chapter blurb into a story. She sparked my imagination and gave wonderful advice.  
2- Flames/Chloe-- the SA.com Beta Goddess...there is a reason she beta's for everyone: she is AWESOME!   
3- Eve and Lady Anne-- who read my stuff and give me early feedback and reviews. Without them, this story would be a burden to me, but I look forward to their words every chapter- thus making this story ten times more fun. You ladies are wonderful.  
  
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A week later found Spike out on the front steps of the apartment building, smoking his normal evening's allotment of cigarettes. Buffy refused to let him smoke in the apartment, and he was just enough of a gentleman to understand and take his "lung-cancer addiction" outside to the street. He leaned against the stucco wall and took a large drag, and then blew the silky smoke into the night air. Living with Buffy was a lot easier than he'd thought it would be. Aside from the smoking disagreement, their lives had blended together so seamlessly that Spike was astonished with how perfect it seemed. They fixed their work schedules to be the same, ran errands for each other, and Spike was treating Buffy to the finest bachelor cuisine that existed. The way their lives meshed together in every way -save romantic- was natural. Who would have thought...  
  
  
"Hey stranger, Buffy won't let you smoke inside, huh?" the quirky voice of Willow broke through his reverie. Spike watched her approach from across the street, her giant book sack hanging from her tiny body.  
  
  
"Hullo, Red. How was class today?" he asked, tossing his cigarette to a nearby puddle before pulling out another.   
  
  
"Peachy." she replied sweetly, and then shook her head when Spike politely offered her a cigarette. "I saw Buffy in the library, so I decided to come over to tell you something." She whispered conspiringly as she leaned in towards him.  
  
  
He cocked his head and looked at her pixie face in curiosity, "Yeah, wha's tha' about?"  
  
  
"Someone cute gal got your apartment, and has begun to hang with the other cute gal in the floor below. This cute gal has the most beautiful voice and is in this abstract rock band, and introduced the First Cute Gal to the guitarist, and now the First Cute Gal is in love." she said, giggling. Spike took a drag off his smoke and then blew it out as he thought aloud.  
  
  
"Okay. YOU are the cute gal who got my apartment- you and Tara hit it off. She showed you her band, called something weird and "abstract" like-"  
  
  
"BlackCharis. It's not weird! I think it's beautiful! Anyway, that's not the moral of the story. You're a big boy, what IS the moral?" Willow urged excitedly.  
  
  
"Don't buy store-brands?" Spike guessed pathetically, shrugging his shoulders. It earned him a slap on the arm.  
  
  
"No!! She introduced me to Daniel Osbourne!" she squealed, her lips breaking into a gigantic beaming smile.  
  
  
"Oz, eh? He's a good guy. You should be happy with him." Spike smiled at her.  
  
  
"Well, not so much yet. He just broke up with some girl named Amy, so he's waiting a while before he jumps back into anything, but there is DEFINITE chemistry between us." she described, the smile still firmly fixed to her face, even as footsteps approached.  
  
  
"Hey...Willow..." Buffy said shyly as she walked up the sidewalk. She had seen Spike and Willow from down the street and her mind was in a whirlwind of what she should do. Ignore Willow? Act angry? Or just simply say hello? She had decided to be mature and just say hello. But now that beautiful grin that was blossomed on Willow's face as she described something to Spike disappeared. Buffy felt a pierce in her heart. Damn her, she should have just walked passed so Willow would still be happy.  
  
  
"Um...hey Buffy…I just came over to tell Spike about how I'm the new inhabitant of his old apartment." Willow explained, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder again.  
  
  
"Actually," Buffy began, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears, "it's good that you're here. There are a few small shoe boxes of stuff I found in the bonus closet that belong to you. Wanna come up and get them?"  
  
  
"Sure." Willow responded quietly and then followed Buffy up the steps, "You coming Spike?"  
  
  
"I'll be up in a bit. Jus' one more." Spike called to them as they disappeared up the stairwell.  
  
  
--  
  
  
"Sooo…living with Spike, huh?" Willow said as nonchalantly as she could, leaning against the wall outside the apartment while Buffy unlocked the door. The blonde nodded, but said nothing else as she pushed the door open.  
  
  
"That's gotta be inter-" Willow cut off as she entered the room, "Oh. My. God!"   
  
  
Buffy watched amused as Willow stepped into the center of the living area and spun around, staring at the paintings that now adorned the wall, towering one on top of the other until the ceiling. The delicate curves of clay, glass, and metal sculptures in each corner and around the old fashioned fireplace, mingled with the plants that Buffy loved so much.  
  
  
"This looks incredible! These paintings make the room look huge, how they are so close to the ceiling! I never thought this place could look this great!" Willow exclaimed, gazing at the colorful canvases and abstract frames.  
  
  
"It definitely looks posh, that's for sure. I love it. It gives everything a whole new flavor." Buffy smiled as she flung her school stuff down on the couch. Then she grabbed the shoe boxes and set them on the table next to where Willow stood in disbelief. "Um, there's your stuff."  
  
  
Willow looked down at the boxes and then her eyes bugged out again, "What did you do to them!?" she cried.  
  
  
The shiny finish of the shoeboxes was covered with scribbles and swirls of paint, some in the shapes of little animals and flowers, and others just blobs of color, and whirlwinds of black and blue pen.  
  
  
"Oh, that…um...sorry..." Buffy blushed, waving her hand around like it was no big deal, "they were sitting above the pencil drawer. You know the drawer in the kitchen under the phone where we kept all of the crayons, and pens, and paint, and scissors and stuff? Well, I was talking to my dad last night on the phone and I got a little bored so I kinda took it out on your boxes. Oops!"   
  
  
Willow just gaped at the doodles and then looked up at Buffy, "No, its fine it just....I think Spike's rubbing off on you!" She erupted in laughter. Buffy soon joined in. They were clutching their sides with cramps as they fell down on the couch.  
  
  
"Oh gosh, it feels good to laugh with you again!" Buffy said between gasps. Willow looked at her with dancing eyes.  
  
  
"Yeah...about that...." she began.  
  
  
"I'm sorry." they said in unison. Then they looked at each other with surprise before laughing again. Buffy jumped over to Willow's side of the couch and enfolded her in a hug.  
  
  
"We'll never, ever fight again!!" Willow said as she giggled and hugged Buffy back. They finally caught their breath and extracted themselves from the other and sat Indian style.  
  
  
"But I'm still kinda glad that we separated. I mean, not to be rude, but I love my new independence, and my new apartment." Willow said, holding her cool hands over her cheeks hot from laughing.  
  
  
"And I love my new interior designing of my apartment." Buffy said as she glanced around the room appreciatively.  
  
  
"And your new roommate." Willow quipped knowingly.  
  
  
"And my new roommate..." Buffy repeated automatically. Then her eyes widened with what she said. "No! I mean, I like Spike! He's a good roommate. But I'd rather have you....I would. I would rather have you. Yes." Buffy covered weakly.   
  
  
"Buffy..." Willow cocked her head and gave Buffy 'the look'. Buffy deflated against the cushions.  
  
  
"Okay, so I love living with Spike- but shhhh about that!" Buffy commanded sternly, putting her finger against her lips. Willow grinned gently.  
  
  
"Of course I'll be shhhh. That's what best friends are for- keeping the deepest darkest secrets."  
  
  
"You're not wrong. Now what secret did she tell, 'cause I can guarantee I know 'em all." Spike announced as he pushed the door closed behind him. Willow looked at Spike and arched an eyebrow at him.  
  
  
"You don't know this one." she challenged, standing up and gathering her boxes.   
  
  
"Don' I?" Spike mused, as he sauntered dangerously to the couch and took the pre-warmed spot next to Buffy where Willow had been sitting.  
  
  
"Nope!" Willow exclaimed, popping the 'p' as she winked at the blushing Buffy, "Well, kids, I must go home and study. Finals. Bleh! Bye guys!"   
  
  
"Oh, Red, tell your brother that a bunch of the guys are goin' out for beers tomorrow night. I know he leaves soon, but we'd like to see 'im before he returns to his stuffy San Fran job." Spike shouted behind his shoulder.  
  
  
"I'll tell him! See ya tomorrow, Buffy!" Willow called back, and pulled shut the door.  
  
  
"So you two made up, I see." Spike said to Buffy after the door closed.  
  
  
"Yeah, I'm happy." Buffy said warmly, pulling the afghan from the back of the sofa and wrapping it around herself as she clicked on the TV with the remote.  
  
  
"Tha's good. I hate seeing you and Red fighting. S' not natural- messes me all up." Spike said with a pout, and then snagged the corner of Buffy's blanket and pulled it over himself.  
  
  
"Hey, loser, go get your own blanket!" she snapped teasingly.  
  
  
"No. This is the microfleece one, therefore the warmest. And you're all nice and warm too, so I'd much rather curl up with you." he explained, scooting closer to her body. She took a deep breath and held it until he stopped scooting.  
  
  
And now she couldn't breathe at all. He was all wound up behind her, his legs intertwined with hers, and his one arm lying comfortably around her waist. He propped a pillow under her head and his.  
  
  
"This a'right, pet?" he asked softly from behind/beside her. She nodded, and finally took a breath as her body relaxed into his.   
  
  
And soon they were both asleep. 


	10. Pissed

The following night was the official Guys Night Out. Spike rounded up all the menfolk and herded them to a dingy downtown bar -he tried to avoid the Bronze when he wasn't working- where they played pool and drank beer and made crude, immature jokes about sex, body functions, and sports. It made for Times-chock-full-of-the-Good.   
  
  
Riley, Spike, Xander, Angel, and Forrest entered Willy's Place like they owned the joint. And Willy didn't bother to tell them otherwise- this was Sunnydale, not somewhere important like New York City after all.  
  
  
"Willy! Get me and my mates a bunch o' bottles of Heineken! An' some buffalo wings! You know how I like 'em!" Spike shouted as they pushed through the gaudy beads that hung over the entrance.  
  
  
"Spicy!" Came Willy's nasally reply. Spike laughed and nodded, grabbing a couple of large glass mugs from the bar and passed them out.   
  
  
"Grab your pool sticks, you gits, and prepare to be crushed. 'M in a good mood, and only beating you pathetic wankers in pool will prolong my 'appiness."  
  
  
"I hate to disappoint you Spike, but I am wicked good at pool nowadays." Angel sighed in mock sympathy as he clapped his friend on the back. Spike brushed his hand off good-naturedly.  
  
  
"Yeah, yeah, wha'ever. Whelps on my team." Spike pointed at Xander, who scowled.  
  
  
"How come I can't have a cool nickname like you, Spike? Why can't I be 'Mad Dog' or 'Shark' or-"  
  
  
"You like animals, eh, mate?" Spike smirked at him.  
  
  
"Xand, be thankful- At least your not 'Whitebread' or 'Captain Cardboard'." Riley said before gulping down huge swallows of the golden beer. Forrest snorted in agreement at that, and began rubbing chalk on the tip of his cue.  
  
  
"But see, those are both derived from positive things! 'Whitebread' refers to your down-to-earth wholesome goodness, and 'Captain Cardboard' refers to your football position in our high school team and your attractive muscular appearance! I'm just 'Whelp'." Xander whined as he pulled the balls together into the triangle on the green felt.  
  
  
"Well, then, let's make it positive." Angel proposed, sauntering around the side of the table and eyeing the balls carefully before leaning down to break them with the white ball, "Um......"  
  
  
"See, you can't think of anything!" Xander exclaimed, taking aim at the cue ball, knocking a solid into a pocket.  
  
  
"Well, you do Interior Design, which is an artistic sort of job, so let's say you're a Whelp because do your job 'whel'. And all artists are whelps." Forrest muttered, and knocked a stripe into the far corner pocket.  
  
  
"Hey!" "'Ey!" Came Xander and Spike's twin cries of offense.  
  
  
"Think about it- girls aren't really attracted to artists. They kinda get bored with all their mumbo-jumbo, "I'm different than everybody else" shit." Forrest argued. Riley and Angel both leaned back against the bar, amused at Forrest's thoughts.  
  
  
"I'll have you know that Anya finds me damn sexy!" Xander said, violently hitting a ball and sending it careening around the dimly lit table.  
  
  
"Well she's weird." Forrest replied shortly. Xander just shot him a look.  
  
  
"An' Buffy is the happiest 've ever seen her with her apartment's new look. She likes my art." Spike said, cocking his head as if daring Forrest to argue with him. Forrest wasn't the one who rose to the new challenge though.  
  
  
"Buffy thinks that, does she?" Riley said, all joking no longer in his voice.  
  
  
"Buffy is also weird...among other things." Forrest said dryly, lining up a shot.  
  
  
"Wha's that supposed t' mean, mate?" Spike asked, looking back and forth between the black man and the angry Captain Cardboard.  
  
  
"She's a blonde bimbo with the intelligence the size of a rat. She does nothing but giggle, seduce and try to succeed in school, but fails miserably. Buffy is good for nothing but sex." Forrest flatly announced.   
  
  
"Shut up, Forrest." Riley muttered, playing with the tip of his cue on the dirty floor. Spike's eyes lit up in outrage.  
  
  
"That's all you're gonna say, Finn?? 'iShut UP/i'?? My god man, he is talking about your childhood playmate an' current *girlfriend* you soddin' ponce!" Spike shouted; his face full of astonished anger. Riley bent his head, trying to reign in his urge to punch Spike.  
  
  
"Look, he's entitled to his opinion. He's not the one dating her. I am. Because I love her. Forrest can think and say what he wants, but that doesn't change the way I feel about Buffy..." he said in a low voice. Spike's eyebrows shot up.  
  
  
"No. It may not change the way you feel about Buffy...but it certainly affects her. She *knows* wha' Forrest thinks of her. An' it hurts her more than she'll let on. If you'd reign in your friends rude opinions 'ere, she might not ever have been the wiser." Spike ground out in a dangerous tone.  
  
  
"Forrest is his own man, William. And I find it a bit annoying that you know Buffy so well. She should talk to me about this stuff." Riley shouted, tossing his cue to the cue basket along the wall, where it landed with a crash.  
  
  
  
"She tries, mate. She told you about Adam, didn't she? But you didn't do a thing about it. Remember that nasty bruise he got on his pretty baby face?" Spike asked, walking up to Riley's face and challenging him. "Buffy did tha' to 'im when he tried to kiss her."  
  
  
Riley shoved Spike away violently, causing him to hit the pool table. Xander reached out to steady Spike as he stumbled back, while Angel grabbed the ball he was currently lining up and moved it slightly so he had a better shot.  
  
  
"You're lying." Riley spat.   
  
  
"'Fraid not, nancy boy." Spike said, a threatening smirk flitting across his lips. Riley leapt forward to take a swing at his cocky face. Forrest grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away before his knuckles could make contact.  
  
  
"It's not worth it, Riley. Let's go." he said between clenched teeth, and tugged Riley towards the door. Riley allowed himself to be pulled away, his hazel eyes fixed coldly on his British friend. They disappeared through the plastic clashing of the beads.  
  
  
"Whoa…that was a bit intense." Xander breathed.  
  
  
"Just goes to show that Riley never grew up. He's still the arrogant and stupid asshole he was in high school." Angel said in a chuckle as he grabbed a beer. He pushed it down the bar towards Spike, "Gotta love him though. Here, Spike, drink up."  
  
  
"I'm gonna need a lot more than this." Spike said as he twisted off the cap and downed it in only five long swallows.  
  
  
--- --- --- --- ---   
  
  
Buffy hummed to herself as she poked through cabinets and the refrigerator looking for a snack, her tiny body encased in a fluffy white towel. There was nothing better than a hot bath and then some yummy food after a long evening of studying for finals. She felt the towel begin to slide from her silky skin and giggled as she tugged it back into place, wrapping it more securely around her breasts.  
  
  
"Macho, macho ma-aaan. I want to be a macho....WO-man!" She sang, and then let out another giggle at her new words. The phone's shrill ring broke through her silliness.  
  
  
"Spike and Buffy's flat, what can I do ya for?" she spoke into the receiver cheerfully. Then she let out a shriek.  
  
  
"Mark! Oh my god, how are you?? Uh-huh and how is the rest of the Lynch family?...Well, tell Johnny that if he was only a couple of years younger, and his hair wasn't so purple that I'd happily marry him." she laughed, and hopped up onto the stool, tucking the towel carefully around her thighs. She balanced the phone on her shoulder as she peeled an orange, "So are you calling to talk to Spike? He's out with some of the guys right now, but he should be back any minute...yeah, it was just the guys. I had to study for finals...Don't make fun of me! Not all of us can be super talented musicians like you, ya know. Some of us have to work hard in college so we can get good jobs and succeed in the REAL world...Of course I'm not saying that you don't live in the real world- what with all the women who adore you and the money and the beautiful home in Arizona, and the cars, and the...Ha. Ha. Not funny."  
  
  
The door opened and a very sour Spike came in, slamming the door behind him and ripping off his coat.  
  
  
"I'm HOME." he shouted angrily, tossing his coat onto the couch. Buffy let out an 'Eep' and jumped off the stool.  
  
  
"Yeah, Mark, Spike just got home and he seems really pissed about something." Buffy explained to the inquisitive Mark who overheard the angry entrance.  
  
  
"An' I'm drunk too, pet, so you might want to go put on some clothes, because Drunk Spike with a barely clothed female is a bad combination." he growled, leering at her tiny body. Buffy's face turned bright red and she slunk behind the counter to shield her lower half from his eyes.  
  
  
"Um, Mark? That's my cue. It was great talking to you. Here's Spike." she spoke warmly into the receiver before pressing 'hold' and pulling it away from her ear, holding it out to Spike. He merely looked at it from across the room. "Are you going to come over here and take it? It has a cord, you know, so I can't exactly toss it to you."  
  
  
Her voice sounded stronger than she was. He walked over dangerously, his gait screaming seduction. When he reached her, he got as close as possible, invading her space as he looked down on her small body still hot from the bath water. Slowly he took the phone from her hand, pressed hold and brought it up to his ear.  
  
  
"Hullo, Mark. I'm currently intoxicated and angry, so now's not a good time. I'll call ya back tomorrow when my 'angover goes away." he spoke in smooth tones, still staring down into Buffy's flushed, upturned face. Their faces so close, she could feel his warm, alcohol-laden breath on her skin. "Ta-ta, then."   
  
  
Buffy wasn't aware of the click of the phone being set in its cradle. Spike hadn't moved his body, just his arm. Now there were no distractions. Just a warm, soft and nervous Buffy, with fluttering hormones and emotions...and a drunk, horny and very outraged Spike who just KNEW in his rational mind that this was a bad idea.  
  
  
"You didn't get dressed yet." he said softly, eyes red from the alcohol. She gasped when she felt his hand slide up her exposed thigh, "Must've wanted me to take advantage of you."  
  
  
She jumped back suddenly when his words managed to sink into her brain.  
  
  
"No, no, no...I'm going to get dressed now." she babbled, backing up towards her room. He followed her.  
  
  
"Good idea. Need 'elp?" he said, the heat of lust flaring in his eyes. Buffy gulped.  
  
  
"No. Spike, please. I don't want you and me to do this. Not like this. You mean too much to me." she pleaded when her back hit her closed door, "You are drunk…and really upset about something, which you can tell me about tomorrow morning when you're sober. Goodnight!" she squeaked, opening her door and then shutting it abruptly in his face.  
  
  
"Bloody hell." he groaned, and staggered off to his bed, passing out the moment his body hit the sheets.  
  
  
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Disclaimer: Mark Lynch, and Johnny Lynch are the creative property of the incredible Jypzrose/Lisa. I had her FULL permission to use them!!!! They are not to be used without consent from her. If you have any questions about this, e-mail her at Jypzrose@aol.com. Thanks-Alantie.  
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	11. Dissolve

"Buffy!" Spike's voice cracked as he groaned for his roommate. He rolled over in his bed and pressed his palm against his forehead in agony, "Buffy, goddamn it, come here please!!"  
Buffy had been reading on the sofa, and she looked up when she heard his moan. She smiled wickedly as she walked to his room and pushed open the door to reveal her best friend sprawled across his bed, still in his clothes from the night before, and in a full-fledged hangover.  
"Well, hello, dear sir. Welcome to the world of sober!" she said sweetly as she sat on his bed.  
"Shut your gob, bint." Spike muttered in pain, "And get me a cure!" he begged pitifully, putting his head under a pillow.  
Buffy smiled gently and smoothed her hand down his spine before heading to the kitchen for a hangover beer, asprin, and some water. When she returned, Spike was laying bare-chested on the rumpled sheets, taking deep breaths to sooth the pounding in his skull.  
"Here." she said simply, handing him the asprin and water. He washed them down greedily and then collapsed onto the mattress again, "So what got you so angry that you drank half the alcohol in California?"  
"Nothin'." he lied, crawling towards her and putting his head on her lap, seeking her friendly healing touch. She combed her fingers through his curls. "I don't need an excuse to get that drunk."  
"Liar. You said last night that you were angry....among other..words that were spoken.." she trailed off, eyes dropping nervously to the floor as she recalled his seduction. He rolled slightly so he could squint up at her.  
"Wha' else did I say?" he asked tentatively, searching Buffy's bright face in the morning light.  
"Well..um.." she began, her cheeks flushing red, "I don't really....well, I was wearing...a towel. Only..a towel."   
Spike sat up abruptly, and then regretted it when his head started swimming crazily.  
"Only a towel? Oh god..." he muttered, putting his head in his hands. He then looked up at her suddenly again, "I didn't...do anything to you...did I, pet?"  
"Something about how I wanted you to take advantage of me since I didn't get dressed when you told me to. And...you kinda touched me." his eyes widened comically at that. "No! Just my thigh. You just slid your hand up my thigh, and backed me against my bedroom door, thats it. That was all."   
She finished her explanation softly, clasping her hands and setting them in her lap. He reached over and covered her tiny hands with his own.  
"Buffy, I'm sorry. You know I'd never want to take advantage of you. Ever. An' I'm sorry for touching you like that. Tha' was inappropriate of me. My Drunk Self apparently does not recognize the boundaries of friend-to-friend touching. It will never 'appen again, I promise you." he said seriously, gazing at her profile as she looked down at the floor. When he finished talking she sighed sadly, and then looked up at him, a fake smile plastered to her lips as she swiped back a whisp of hair hanging along her cheek.  
"Yeah, thanks for the apology. I hope you don't do that ever again." she forced herself to say. Then her smile turned prying again and she squirmed closer to him, "Soo...what had you so mad?"  
"You really want to know?" Spike asked laying his head back down on her lap. Her fingers instantly found his bleached locks again.  
"Yes."  
"Riley."  
"Explain, please. Him being my boyfriend, and all."  
And so Spike explained, telling the story from start to finish.  
--- --- --- --- ---  
Buffy unlocked Riley's apartment door slowly, still contemplating what she wanted to say to him. It opened with a loud squeak, and she stepped into the dingyness that was his living habitat.  
"Riley?" she called out, putting her keys on the bar as she ventured into the room.  
"Back here!" he answered. She followed his voice and the loud buzz of a razor to his bathroom.  
"Hey." she said quietly, entering the flourscent light of the bathroom and sitting on the edge of the tub."We need to talk."  
"Well then go ahead and talk while I get ready for work." Riley said, looking at her through the reflection of the mirror.  
"It's kinda serious, so could you stop whatever you're doing?" she asked tersely.  
"Shaving, Buffy, its called shaving. Girls shave their legs. Men shave their faces. You should know that, considering you live with one." Riley said shortly, continuing to move the razor over his strong jaw. Buffy stood up and glared at him through the mirror.  
"I guess you want to get right to it then, don't you? Tell me why you and Spike argued." she demanded, planting her hands on her hips.  
"Spike was being a know-it-all jackass." Riley said with a shrug.   
"He was DEFENDING me!!" Buffy shouted, "Something you should have been doing for once in your life!"  
"No, Buffy. He was trying to rattle my cage, by getting on Forrest's case, and telling me shit about Adam, and talking about how you LOOOVED his art." Riley spat, rinsing off the last of the shaving gel from his cheeks. He turned around to face his tiny, fuming girlfriend.  
"Well, I say 'good on him'. Forrest needed someone to get on his case, since you apparently lack the strength to do so."  
"Buffy, please." Riley rolled his eyes, "You really-"  
She cut off his next words by raising her palm, and continuing, "And as for Adam, it wasn't shit. I TOLD you I was uncomfortable with him, and that he'd make a move. And way to go me! I was right!"  
"Maybe it was a friendly move. Like a brother-to-sister thing, or something. You probably overreacted by punching him." Riley said, leaning against the sink.  
Buffy gaped at him, and then laughed increduously, "Right! Of course! I overreacted!! It was a brother-sister move, you know, since INCEST is *sooo* friendly." she said sarcastically, and then turned on her heel and marched to the kitchen. Riley followed her.  
"And the art?" he asked her. She grabbed her keys and then looked up at him, eyes swimming with brutal honesty and hurt.  
"I do love Spike's art, Riley. I've loved it since I was a kid and he was still drawing cartoon characters and airplanes. You know that. Why make it such an issue now?" she said softly.  
"Because you and Spike have always had this incredible bond that no one can touch. And you treat him so well, its almost like he is your husband, you know? And when I fell in love with you, I thought that if I could just get to that point with you...then you and I would be perfect. But the closer you and I get, the more I see how far away from me you are. Spike and you are just best friends. You and I are lovers. But I don't hold that piece of you I want to hold." Riley explained, searching the floor with his eyes as if it held the answer to all his problems.  
"Riley...I am trying, okay? But..when you don't defend me against Forrest..and you take all your frusteration out on Spike...it hurts me." she said, tears coming to her hazel gems.  
"To be honest, I don't want to defend you from Forrest, because I can see where he's coming from. Spike being the man I want to be for you, makes me more angry than hurt. You're a bitch." Riley said simply, coldness seeping into his eyes when they looked at her again.  
Buffy reeled back as if she had been slapped. "What did you say?" she breathed in disbelief.  
"You are a bitch. I try and TRY to be the one for you, but you never let me in. Your guy is right here!" he exclaimed, opening his arms to indicate himself, "and you ignore it. You aren't the long-haul girl, thats for sure."  
"I- I can be!" she protested, the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks.  
"No, you can't. You aren't capable of the commitment it takes for a relationship." Riley said, turning away from her and going to the kitchen to get a snack.  
"A-are you breaking up with m-me?" Buffy stuttered, looking at his retreating back while she choked back sobs.  
"Yes." Riley said simply, "Now, please return your key, and go home to your roommate."  
Buffy let out a squauk of unbelief as the suddeness of the break-up hit her full force. She tugged the key off the ring and threw it at him in rage, and then ran out the door, pulling it shut with a satisfying bang.  
She ran home, heedless of the tears running down her face until she caught her reflection in a liquor store window.   
Liquor. Now there was an idea... 


	12. Vodka

A/N--So sorry it took so long for all of this stuff! These have been written forever, but I had an issue in real life that required my time and energy. Just a tiny issue called....the Buffy Posting Board Party in Los Angeles!!! I am still coming down from it. Total lack of sleep the entire weekend. And the adrenaline of meeting the cast and crew and other fans fades so fast the day after, that it leaves you feeling like you got hit by a truck. So its been a long week of recovery. But I can now finish this story and die happy. James smiled at me. And Joss was impressed with me. Those are two wonderful, wonderful things. ;-) I also met a ton of other Buffy and Angel and Firefly people, but ya'll don't want to hear all about that!! Now, on with the tale...  
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Spike entered the apartment in his usual fashion: open the door, hang his keys on the hook, pull off his jacket and toss it onto the couch, and then announce to everybody/Buffy/no one, that he was home. But this time he only got to item number 3, when his thrown jacket landed on a very intoxicated Buffy.  
"Heeeeeey, Spike!" she drawled, holding up the vodka bottle and sloshing the remaining inch of liquid back and forth.  
"Heeeeeey, Buffy!" Spike mimicked, an amused smile settling on his lips, "Wha's that you're drinkin'?"  
"Noooo-thing!" she grinned innocently and took another swig, 'bleching' as it made firey trails down her throat that led straight to her head, not her stomach. Spike jumped over the back of the couch and settled down next to her.  
"Nothin', eh? You drank almost all 'f that nothing." he observed, tapping the glass of the bottle. She giggled.  
"Yup, and wanna know something?" she whispered, leaning close to him. He nodded and leaned forward too, "Look in the refridgedairatoror."  
Spike jumped up and opened the refrigerator door to reveal 10 more bottles full of Vodka, "Buffy! My god, girl. Wha' happened?"  
"RILEY!" she answered, holding up the bottle again, "Riley broke up with me! Loser. He had a nice dick, but that's about all I liked about him. An' I bet your dick is ten times....no! One Hundred times better!! We should test that theory."  
Spike's eyes shot up at her at that, and then he bit back a laugh. Hooo boy, she was even hornier than he was when he was drunk, "Yeah, okay, Love. You went out an' got drunk just because Whitebread broke up with you?"  
Buffy waved her hand through the air, as if erasing what Spike said, "No no no...I'm apprently not the "long-haul girl". I have "commitment problems" and all that bull shit, " She said sadly, studying the label of her bottle, "But I sure am gonna miss his penis."  
Spike made an expression of disgust at that, "Oh jeez, now you are startin' to sound like Anya."  
"So, gonna join me in my drinking?" Buffy asked, standing up on wobbly legs and stumbling to the kitchen.   
"Eh, I don' think so, pet." he said, backing away from her.  
"What? You don't want us to," she fluttered her eyelashes, and put a hot hand on his leather-clad thigh, "take *advantage* of each other?"  
"Um...no, I don't think tha' will be a good idea." he gulped at her speaking his words from the previous nigt, as her hand moved to his inner thigh. He reached down and pushed it away slowly.  
"Fine!" she pouted, and then grabbed another full bottle from the fridge and stumbled back to the living room. Spike let out a sigh of relief..and then realized that Buffy was about to down another full bottle of alcohol.  
"Buffy-Love, you are gonna get alcohol poisening if you drink s' much. Why don' you give me that, and I'll pour you another couple'a shots, and then you'll be done for tonight?" he coaxed reaching over the back of the couch to retrieve the bottle.  
"You are such a dork, Spike." she laughed, jumping across the coffee table to the lazyboy. He leapt over the couch.  
"I am not a dork." he whined, stepping over the coffeetable.  
"You know what? I'm gonna drink to that! To Spike, " she began in an a mock-formal voice, holding up the bottle for the umpteenth time that night, "the king of dorks, who's beautiful girlfriend broke up with him because he's a prude, and now he doesn't get any. Not like he was getting some before. To Spike!"   
She took a triumphant swallow before Spike pulled the bottle from her iron grip and raised it in the air.  
"To Buffy. The girl who will never get married because she's only good for sex, according to the best friend of her ex. Not like I would know, since I can only stand being friends with her, and since she can't commit to anyone else, I gotta fill the gap. To Buffy!" he took 3 long swallows.  
"Hey! Thats too much!!" she whined, and grabbed the bottle back from him. "And Spike? You don't fill my gap. I don't think you're big enough." she said in a sultry tone.  
"If I were drunk, I'd have a come-back for that, but I think I'm jus' gonna ignore it now." he said, pointing an accusing finger at her, "Wash your mouth out with soap."  
"I'd prefer to wash it out with somethin' else." she said dryly, and gulped down the remaining vodka. "More please!"  
"No." Spike said sternly, looking into her red-rimmed eyes. She leaned forward and grabbed his shirt collar.  
"I am gonna drink EVERY. SINGLE. DROP. of alcohol in this apartment, so if you don't want me to drink it, you're gonna have to down it yourself, Prude." she inunciated the best she could through the slur of her heavy tongue. Then she stood and fumbled her way to the kitchen again.  
"You are such a stubborn-" he trailed off when he saw her twist open yet another bottle and begin to gulp down the clear liquid. He stood up and jumped over and took it from her, putting the mouth of the bottle to his lips and drinking the rest. He gasped when he pulled it back and tossed its emptiness into the trashcan. "Cheers!" he said, and reached for another bottle...  
--- --- ---  
An hour later, Buffy and Spike lay sprawled across the couch, surrounded by empty bottles and bowls of popcorn.  
"How many bagsh of popcorn have we ate tonight?" Bufy slurred, tossing a fluffy piece of popcorn into the air and pathetically attempting to catch it in her mouth. It bounced lightly down her chest and disappeared into her cleavage.  
"Dunno. Finished the box, so shix, I think." Spike rolled his head lazily to look over at her, "'Ey! You're washting the popcorn! Lettin' it fly all over.."  
"You want it?" she dared, looking at him from under her long lashes, "Go fish."  
Spike tilted his head in admiration of her dare, and then scooched closer to her on the couch. His hand danced drunkily up her arm, and slid across her chest, before he plunged his fingers between her breasts to retrieve the piece of popcorn. She gasped when he unfastened the front clasp of her bra as he searched.  
"Spike..." she sighed as his hand slipped under the loosened bra cup, and began to slowly caress her milky breast.  
"M'sorry, pet, but what was I shearching for again?" he asked in mock-innocence, watching her eyes darken with lust.  
"This." she replied, grabbing his collar and pulling his lips to hers. His mouth devoured her, his tongue sliding around her lips, teeth, and tongue as she sucked eagerly on his mouth. He pulled his hand away from her breast momentarily, and she pulled away from his lips to moan in outrage. He took the opportunity to fumble with her shirt, finally pulling it over her head. She sighed happily when his hands attacked her bare breasts with fevor, and then dove back in for more wet kissing.  
"Oh god, more. More. More. More." she panted as he dragged his tongue down her jaw and to her earlobe.  
"Ooh, the lil' girl has become a bitch in heat. I guess Riley din't really satisfy you." Spike whispered teasingly against her neck.  
.....UH-OH! The rest of this chapter is NC-17! Please go to www.spuffyarchives.com to read the rest! Review there, or return here to review if you feel inclined. Thank you! 


	13. Morning

A/N- This was a bloody difficult chapter to write. Not just because of it in the whole Spuffy scheme of things, but because of the emotional levels. I don't get my stuff Beta-ed anymore either, so I didn't get any feedback on this baby yet, SO I apologize if it isn't very good. Anyway, it was hard to write, but I hope it does justice to the story so far. Hang in there people, this is rough...but it'll all get better soon...  
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Spike awoke slowly, aware first of the sunlight in his face, then of the pounding of his head, and then...the tiny arms wrapped around his torso. He looked down achingly at Buffy's small head nestled against his naked chest. Then the memories of what they had done the night before came crashing into his consciousness, causing him to reel back and pull from her sleeping grasp. He scrambled out of his bed, quickly tugging on a pair of sweatpants as he backed away from Buffy. She blinked her eyes lazily, feeling the absence of his warmth and his desperate movement.  
"Spike?" she mumbled sleepily, stretching out her arm towards him as she sat up. The sheet dropped to around her waist, "Spike, come back to bed. Its cold."  
Spike raised his hand to his forehead and looked away from her naked chest. She blushed when she noticed his polite embaressment and tucked the sheet back up under her arms.  
"Spike?" she asked nervously, shakingly smoothing her hair behind her ears as she watched him.  
"Buffy...oh god oh god oh god. I'm...so...sorry!" he gasped, rubbing his head desperately as if trying to erase the night.  
"S-sorry?" she whispered, eyes wide and expressive.  
"Bloody...I-I...we...I shouldn't 'ave...oh god, pet." he babbled, his blue eyes rimmed with the red of a hangover, but suddenly filled with so much pain that it broke Buffy's heart, "I really did...take advantage...'f Buffy. You."  
"No, no no no no!" Buffy quickly cut into his ranting whispers. She slid across the bed to him, keeping the sheet draped around her torso as she stood up in front of him. Her hand gently touched his cheek. "Spike...its okay. We were both sooo drunk. You didn't take advantage of me. If anything, I took advantage of you. Okay? Please, please be okay with this."  
Spike bent his head and took a deep breath as she begged him, reassured him. He couldn't believe he had slept with Buffy. BUFFY. His best friend, his guide, his muse, his life. She was worth so much more than a drunken roll in the sheets. Granted, he had never really thought about making love to her, but if it had ever happened, he wanted it to mean something. Maybe it did mean something...it was comfort, solace for her. Release for him. Yeah. Thats it.  
Buffy let out a sigh of relief as his anguished face turned more peaceful. He looked up at her and covered her hand on his cheek with his own, giving it a squeeze.  
"I'm okay, Buffy-Love. Are you okay?" he asked with concern. She let out an unsure giggle.  
"I'm fine..I think! I don't remember a whole lot about last night except that Riley and I...are over. And that you and I...did stuff. And I really, really need to take a shower. I do know that." she smiled weakly as she fiddled with the edge of the sheet, "So I'm gonna go...do that.." she mumbled, holding her makeshift dress to her body as she shuffled to the bathroom.  
Spike watched her go and then let a loud, disbelieving sigh before stumbling to the kitchen to get some asprin. Hurray for another morning with a hangover...  
--- --- ---  
Buffy stared at her reflection in the mirror. Hair wet and stringy around her face still flushed from the hot water. She had just gotten dressed, the clothes laying over her fresh skin feeling like an abomination to her cleanliness. No, Buffy. Bad Buffy. She wasn't clean. She had fucked her best friend, remember? But it was more than a drunken fucking. She knew that. He had to have known that. Hell, she told him she loved him at the moment of pleasure. Did he remember?  
One way to find out: Ask him.  
It was time to talk.  
She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting in the air. Spike was apparently cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Buffy moved silently to the center of the living room and watched him as he plucked off two leaves from one of her plants and put them on the side of the plate she assumed was for her. He then carefully poured her a giant glass of orange juice and set it next to the plate, pausing before turning away to adjust it so it was perfect. His eyes suddenly noticed her.  
"Hi, pet. Um.. this is for you, 'f course. 'S kinda a "Sorry about your break-up", "Congrats on Graduating in a week!", and "You're special" breakfas'. Notice the garnish." he grinned lightly, pointing to the little leaves. Buffy stared at him seriously, only allowing the edges of her lips to curl into a thankful smile before turning solemn again.  
"Spike." she whispered. He stopped bustling around and looked at her.  
"Yeah?" he asked cautiously, "Wha's on your mind?"  
"We need to..talk about something." she took another deep breath, "Do you....do you remember what I told you last night? When we were...together?"   
Spike walked around the bar towards her, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Memories flashed through his head. One in paticular came to the forefront.   
"I do believe you said some...affectionate things to me when we er, came. But it was the alcohol, an' the pleasure, an' all the soddin' stuff tha' there's no need to discuss." he said, waving his hand as he started to turn away again.  
"William, look at me." she said firmly. He turned around in surprise, his piercing blue eyes shooting to her eyes clouded with painful decision.  
"I need to get this out. I could chalk up everything that happened last night to hormones, and the vodka, and my depression over the break-up, but thats the cowards way out. Our friendship has always been about honesty.... Spike, when I told you I loved you last night...I meant it. I love you. More than as a friend....You are... everything to me." she finished, her enormous eyes filling with glassy tears.   
His expression was unreadable. And then it was disbelieving. His mouth opened and closed as if he was going to speak and the words would not vocalize. Her heart grew heavier and heavier as each moment of silence dragged on. She slid onto the couch and curled up into a ball, still watching him and dreading what he was going to say as each second slipped past.  
Spike couldn't believe it. He didn't know how to react. His world had just slipped into something ten times more confusing than he ever wanted. He dropped down onto a stool, facing the living room and his huddled best friend. What was he supposed to say to her? 'Sorry Buff, but I don't feel the same way.' ? 'Even though everything about my life revolves around you and I wouldn't have it any other way.' ? Actually...that sounded pretty good at the moment...  
"Buffy-Lo-" Wait. He couldn't call her that anymore. The 'L' word was entirely something different now. He tried again, "Buffy..."  
She jumped off the couch and hastily wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks as she awaited his reply. "No, don't. I know what you are gonna say. And lets not...I don't want to hear you try to let me down easy." she babbled, rushing forward and grabbing her jacket and purse, "I have errands to run. I'll um...see you. Later. Bye. Going now."  
Spike jumped out and grabbed her arm before she opened the apartment door, "Buffy, stop. You wanted to talk. Let me talk now."  
She tensed in his grip and glanced at him, refusing to see the emotion in his eyes. He slowly loosened his fingers as she turned towards him. His other hand found her cheek and tilted her head up to look at him. She closed her eyes.  
"Buffy Summers, 's your turn to look at me." he pleaded softly. Her eyelids fluttered open to look painfully into his serious gaze. "I...am honored...that you hold me in such high regard. I adore you almos' as much. But not...that way. You are my entire WORLD, sweetheart, but you and I....it would ruin us...if we were together like that. You deserve more than me. More than our... humble friendship..."  
He trailed off as the tears from her eyes began to spill over his fingers on her cheek. God, he was a fool. He didn't even know what he was trying to say. Why the hell'd he open his mouth, when he hadn't organized his thoughts yet?  
"Ruin us." she repeated bitterly, sadly, hurt. "Are you afraid to try, Will? Of course you are. I'm not the long-haul girl. I'm just little girl Buffy. Oh! Its fun to be her friend! But she isn't good for anything else! Other than the SEX. Right, Spike? Guess you have that down."  
Spike retracted his hands at those words, ice creeping into his presence, "Oh, Summers, don't even. You are gonna turn this aroun' and make this *my* fault and put words into *my* mouth all because *you* can't handle rejection! God, it isn't even soddin' rejection, pet, 's just me tellin' you that it can't be like that. It can't be more."   
"We could be great." she whispered fiercely, "But I'm not gonna try to talk to you into being in a relationship with me. Real relationships are about emotion, and passion, and commitment. I thought we had it. I guess I was wrong."   
He let his gaze move from the floor to her again. She stared back at him, the connection between them full of anger and hurt feelings, understanding, and through it all, adoration. It was an odd look to be shared. And then it was over. Something about it screamed that this was the final bow. The curtain was falling.   
Buffy sniffed a final time, and backed up towards the door. And before Spike could say another word, she had left, leaving him in the empty apartment that he shared...with her...  
--- --- --- --- --- ---  
Buffy slowly unlocked the door, dreading to see and speak to Spike again, but knowing she couldn't avoid him for forever. It was 11 o'clock at night. She had been gone all day, doing random errands that really didn't NEED to be run, but she just wanted to occupy her time and mind. The apartment was pitch black, much to her surprise and relief. Spike wasn't home. She could go to bed and not have to face him until tomorrow. Tossing her keys blindly into the kitchen, she reached over and flipped on the switch, causing the apartment to flood with light.  
Buffy frowned. Something was off. There was something different about everything. Sure, it looked the same, but Buffy just had a sixth sense when it came to oddities. She wandered around the living room, inspecting everything curiously, and then headed for Spike's room.  
The door opened creakingly, like always, only this time it revealed...nothing. Spike's room was neat. Clean. Organized. And completely devoid of all his things.  
Spike had left his artwork.   
Taken his personal items.  
And moved out. 


	14. Tear

The apartment door was shaking with the pounding of someone's fist. Buffy peeked over the back of the sofa at the front door, debating with herself whether she should open it, or simply ignore the thunderous knocks.  
"Buffy! We know you are in there! Now open the fucking door!" Anya's commanding voice shouted from the hallway. Buffy rubbed her tear-swollen eyes and shuffled to the door, unlocking it slowly and then jumping back to avoid the stampede that would occur. Anya, Willow, and Tara burst into the apartment.  
"Oh my god, Buffy, you look awful!" Willow gasped and then slapped her hand over her mouth, "Oh geez, I didn't mean to say it like that."  
"Well, good thing you did. Buffy, you look awful." Anya repeated truthfully, kicking the door closed behind her and moving to the kitchen to get a soda. Buffy watched with a distant expression, nodded absently at the comment, and then trudged back to collapse on the sofa again. Willow followed her and waved Tara over to join them.  
"What happened?" Willow asked softly, reaching out and petting Buffy's shimmering blonde ponytail. Buffy responded by letting out an anguished sob and buried her head in a pillow. Anya scurried over and plopped down next to her.  
"It...all...f-fell...apart..." Buffy said between heaves, her voice muffled by tears and the fluffy throwpillow. Willow shared a serious look with Anya.  
"Oh, sweetie.." Tara cooed sympathetically from her place on the floor next to the couch. She put a tender hand on Buffy's shaking shoulder.  
"Why are you guys here? I mean...how did you kn-now something was wrong?" Buffy sniffed, raising her head to look at them all through the fog of her eyes.  
"I was over at Oz's yesterday. Spike showed up last night and asked him if he could live there for a while. I knew something big had happened, but Spike didn't look like he wanted to talk about it. He quit his job at the Bronze, too." Willow explained gently, still running her slender fingers through the blonde locks.  
"Oh my god!" Buffy gasped, her lips twisting downward into a water sob again, "He hates me! He wants to get as far away from me as he can!!" she dove back under the pillow again.  
"We'd love to be good best friends and help you and stuff, but we have to know what happened." Anya said matter-of-factly, but there was concern and love deep down in the blunt tones she used. Buffy sat up again, her entire face a red and wet mess. and tugged a piece of paper from her sleeve and tossed it weakly onto the table.  
"I t-t-told him I loved him-as more than a friend-after we shared a n-night of drunken passion." Buffy muttered, and then snuggled back into the pillows.  
Tara raised an eyebrow at the other girls and then grabbed the crumpled note and smoothed it out to read:  
---  
  
'Buffy-Love,  
'The coward's way out, I believe you mentioned. Well, thats me. I'm a bloody coward. And I fled.  
'I preach about how I want sex to mean something, and I wait forever in relationships to do it, and then I did it with you in the grossest, cruelest way possible: while I was drunk off my ass. The thing is, making love to you was just that: making love. I adore you. I love you. Without you, my life would be devoid of the beautiful tapestry of love, laughter and support that currently exists in it.  
'Now I am sounding like a sodding poet. The point is, I left because time must pass between us. Maybe distance will erase the tension that has now sprung up. That tapestry has torn, and we can only mend it when the emotion between us has settled and a level of comfort has returned.   
'I left my artwork. That is the signal that I will be back. But it will be a while. You graduate in a week, don't wait around for me. Pursue your future. I'll give you space, if you give me some. And if you are still waiting for me with your open arms, I'll be back. I can't live long without my best friend.  
'-William Sheffield'  
---  
Tara laid the letter back down on the table and looked up at Buffy's shoulders quivering with her sobs.  
"What a jerk!" Tara exclaimed to everyone's surprise.  
"What? I thought it was very nicely worded. He apologized. He explained. It makes sense." Anya said, tilting her head as she stared at the girl on the floor.  
"Anya, he DIDN'T apologize. He said 'la la la, we made love, but now its messed up because of you, and I refuse to acknowledge what you told me, so here's to us being best friends! Good day!' " Tara summed up in a mocking male voice, "He didn't explain. It DOESN'T make sense. I take my 'jerk' and raise it to 'bastard'."  
Anya's face darkened with agreement. Willow gaped at Tara's powerful words, wondering where the sweet girl had gone. Then she noticed that the sobbing Buffy had sat up and was wiping her tear-stained cheeks and listening very attentively to Tara's speech.  
"You're right." she said softly in a cry-roughened voice.  
"So let me get this straight: You and Spike got drunk, had sex, and then you told him how you really felt about him. You came home, and all of his stuff was gone. He quit the Bronze, he moved out, and this is all he has said to you about it?" Willow rubbed her temple as she spoke, her headache blossoming as the details were revealed.  
Buffy nodded pathetically, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt as if it could some how make everything better with its childish softness.  
" 'Bastard' going once, going twice, SOLD." Willow agreed heartily with Tara, her face hardening into something that resembled her Resolve Face.  
"How much did it go for?" Anya asked curiously. Buffy looked over at her, the comment causing the corners of her pouty lips to quirk in a bit of a grin. Anya winked at her.  
"So..I d-do what he says, right? I graduate next week...I'm not gonna hold anything b-back because of him..." Buffy said firmly, but her voice rose at the end, turning the strong statment into a wary question.  
"Yes. You will go on. You graduate. You go find another job. You start your career. Go, be free!" Tara said with a sweet smile. Willow patted Buffy's knee reassuringly.  
"That's right. Move beyond it. And enjoy having his artwork to yourself." she teased. Buffy grinned lightly again, "Well, Buffster, we gotta go. Xander has some errands for Anya to run, and I'm joining Tara on a BlackCharis photoshoot...unless you wanna come?"  
Buffy shook her head and blew her nose again, "I don't think I'm really in the mood to go anywhere."  
"That's fine. Feel better. We love you." Anya said shortly, giving Buffy an akward hug before she moved towards the door. Tara leaned over and squeezed Buffy's shoulder and followed Anya out. Willow stayed behind for a second to say some final things to her best friend.  
"Buffy..." she began, cupping the blonde's wet cheeks, "you and him...may be over. I'm not gonna lie to you and say its all gonna be perfect again. But I know you're strong enough to go on. You were right to decide to do what he says. You gotta keep moving. You got your whole life in front of you. Don't shoot it down because you're too busy moping and waiting for him."  
Buffy's watery hazel eyes looked up sadly into Willow's green ones, "I love him, Willow. SO. MUCH."  
"I know. But sometimes you gotta reset your stage to find if it fits you, and if maybe he wants to try to fit himself into it again, too. Your arms don't have to be open for him. Just remember to live for yourself first." Willow leaned forward and pressed a friendly kiss to Buffy's forehead, "Bye Buff."  
The door closed with its quiet click and snap. And Buffy found the tears start rolling downwards again when the silence of the paintings and sculptures around her, slammed into her with the force of a train.  
--- --- --- ---  
"Hello?" Joyce Summer's voice answered at 1630 Revello Drive.  
"Hey Mommy." Buffy said sadly.  
"Buffy! What's wrong?"   
"Can I move in with you?" she blurted into the receiver  
"Honey, you know you're always welcome. What's happened? I thought Spike was living with you..."  
"Yeah..he was. It's a long story....I'll tell you when I move in...which will be tomorrow."  
"Wow! Um, I guess I'm gonna have to clean out your room then of my gallery stuff, huh?"  
"Yeah..." Buffy said distractedly.  
"This is serious, isn't it?" Joyce suddenly asked, motherly concern evident.  
"Yeah, it really, really is." Buffy responded, tears leaking into her voice.  
"Come over tonight and talk to me while I am cleaning up your room. I'll order pizza. Okay, sweetheart?"  
"Okay."  
"Oh, and I have some exciting news for you involving a job opportunity too! So remind me to tell you."  
"Okay."  
"See you tonight, then."  
"Yeah...bye..." Buffy sighed, and hung up the phone, staring blankly out the window and wondering how to fix the confusing, tattered mess that was her life. 


	15. Always

Spike slunk into the gorgeous imported doors of Revamp Designs, Inc. and peered around the silent studio. Xander was probably in his office, and Anya was missing from her normal post at the designing desk, Spike noted with a relieved frown. He had come to talk to Xander, and the last thing he needed was Anya's blunt scolding abou-  
"Spike Sheffield." Anya's voice coldly interrupted Spike's thoughts. She stood stiffly in the doorway to Xander's office.  
"Anya. Hullo, pet. Um...congratulations on graduating..an' all that.." Spike greeted her hesitantly. Anya tossed her hair and crossed her arms under her breasts.  
"Graduation was a month ago. Congratulations on promptness." Anya mocked sarcastically, tilting her head and giving him an evil glare. Spike held up his hands in a surrender.  
"Bugger it, Anya, 'm sorry okay? My life has sucked beyond the tellin' of it lately, an' caused me to forget about you and all your little friends graduation."  
"Yes. All of MY little friends: Tara...Willow...BUFFY." Anya hinted, saying Buffy's name with viscious feeling. Spike flinched. "Oh, so you do have a heart! I mean, at least I got a reaction when I said her name. Buffy. Buffy. Buffy. Buffy."  
"Alright, Anya. Enough." Xander called from his office doorway. Anya stopped her torture and gave her husband a sheepish smile before melting back into the chair of her desk. "Come on in, Spike."  
Spike shot Anya an annoyed look, hurt simmering below its surface and strode quickly into Xander's trendy office, pulling the door firmly shut behind him.  
"You screwed up big time, man." Xander stated lightly, sitting himself down in a gigantic overstuffed chair near the wide windows. Spike sighed and sat down on the lazyboy next to Xander's.  
"So I've been told." Spike responded. His eyes squinted as he looked out at the view of the town, searching the landscape with anguished thought. Xander watched him carefully.  
"You look like shit. What have you been up to? We haven't seen you anywhere lately. Not even graduation, and here I thought we were your friends."  
Spike let out a sad chuckle and turned his simmering eyes to Xander's concerned ones.  
"Yeh, well...I suppose things change, mate."  
"I know what happened. She told Anya everything. And I read the letter. I thought you were strong enough to deal with that heavy stuff." Xander prodded. Spike stood up abruptly and began to pace the office.  
"I couldn't! I didn't know how to deal! This is BUFFY, Xand. Not some regular friendly bird, who you shag jus' because you're both hornier an' drunker than a 16 year ol' jock!" Spike shouted, angrily running his fingers through his curls.  
"Exactly," Xander emphasized, leaning forward in his chair, "this is BUFFY. You should have stuck around and worked it out. You love her- not the same way she loves you, I know- but you do. You should have opened your arms and held her while you both talked the implications over."  
"And led her on?" Spike stopped his crazed walking to stare at his friend.  
"She's smarter than to be led on by something like that, and you know it." Xander rebuked, giving Spike a "get real" expression. "She's your best friend, remember? Your better half, and evil twin- all in one package. Buffy and you were the poster children for the perfect friendship. You made even our amazingly close group of friends look bad with how incredible the two of you were. And then she tells you something that means more than you can possibly know. So what if it has to do with her deeper feelings for you? The point is that she poured out her heart, and you stomped on it as gently as you could, and then you ran away. Shame on you, Spike.   
Spike stared at Xander, letting his scolding sink into his brain. Then he deflated and collapsed back onto the chair, burying his face in his hands.  
"Oh my god..." he nearly gasped, "I screwed up."  
"And he sees the light." Xander quipped.  
"He sees it too late though." Anya spoke up as she opened the door.  
"An, were you listening outside the door?" Xander asked accusingly, but unable to keep the admiration from his voice. She nodded and mouthed "Duh!" before turning her cold eyes back to the tortured Spike. Spike looked up at her.  
"Too late?" he repeated, eyebrows low with seriousness. Xander looked sadly at his friend and nodded.  
"Yeah. Buffy moved in with her mom after you left. Apparently Mrs. Summers found a job for her in another state, then. Buffy moved out two weeks ago."  
"What state?" Spike asked brokenly.  
"Pennsylvania. We don't know what city. I think only Will and Mrs. Summers know. They, um..wanted to keep it quiet for a while."  
"Bloody hell!" Spike shouted, standing up and resuming his pacing, "What the fuck!?"  
"Hey now, you told her that if she gave you space, you'd give her some! You told her to not wait around! She wasn't gonna sit here and wait for you to come back." Anya pointed out, sliding over to Spike's vacated seat and plopping down into the leather cushions.  
"So she went all the way to soddin' Pennsylvania!? An' only her mom and Willow know where she is, so I can't even TRY to fix it!?" Spike asked in outrage.  
"With all due respect, Spike, I think she deserves vanish for a while." Xander argued. Spike stopped pacing and turned to glare at him.  
"No. She doesn't. She can't just ru-" Spike stopped his words. His throat dried up, and his stomach shriveled in realization as he finished in a tortured whisper "run away...oh god."  
"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Anya asked critically. Spike nodded weakly, and then raised his tear-filled eyes to the couple.  
"I lost her for always, didn't I?" he whispered.   
"No. You just lost her for a while. Distance is good. Wait for a while, and then start to bug Mrs. Summers and Willow to find where she is. And then you go back to her, and figure all of this stuff out." Xander stood up and put his hand on Spike's sculpted shoulder, "And don't kill me for saying this, but I think that when you finally work this stuff out with her, you will find that you need her as more than a friend, too."  
Spike didn't react to Xander's final thought, he just slowly turned and left the office without another word.  
"Well, I think that went very well. Its about time the bastard has all of his shit come back and kick him in the balls." Anya mused with a quirky expression. Xander smiled faintly and just stared at the door his friend had left through.  
"Yeah. I'm tired of the pain though. I don't know if even I have the patience to give them both time and distance. Buffy better get back on her feet soon."  
--- --- --- --- --- ---  
Buffy slouched against the wall as she sat on the crinkly paper of the doctors office bench, her feet banging against the cabinents under it impatiently.  
"Come on, Doc, some of us have furiniture to buy..." she sighed, glancing at the clock.   
Just then the doctor knocked lightly on the door before entering, and giving her a reassuring smile.  
"Well, Miss Summers, you're medical files just arrived from Sunnydale Family Practice, and we have them in our archives now." he began cheerfully, "And your suspicions were correct- You're pregnant. Congratulations!"  
Buffy was suddenly breathless. She was pretty much certain when she came to the doctor that she was pregnant. Spike and her were drunk, they hadn't given a thought to protected sex. In her mind she could handle it, but having the doctor put it into words..well, it was shocking. She was pregnant. With SPIKE'S baby. Spike was the father of her child.   
The thoughts swirrled tumultuously through her head, reducing the inner voice to short words: Baby. Spike. Father. Child. Mother. Life. Change. Grow. Love. Family. Friendship. Spike. Father. Father. Father. Child. Child. Child.  
"Yeah...thanks." Buffy replied, her hazel eyes warring between fear, joy, and a bold feeling that she was going to raise this child by herself. 


	16. Years

A/N-- I am COMPLETELY aware that this is a terrifying amount of time to jump. But according to my beta Lady Anne, and good friend Hilary, its ALRIGHT. So, in the words of our favorite vamp: "Do you trust me?"  
----------------------------------------------------------------  
---- NINE YEARS LATER!!!!!!----  
Buffy sat comfortably in the driver's seat of her Expedition, basking in the honey-colored sunlight that beamed gently through the tinted windows. She propped some work folders and papers on the steering wheel and hurriedly filled them out, pausing only a moment to tap the horn under them. The side door to her large suburban home swung open and her 8 year old son came scurrying out, flinging his backpack over his shoulder and tossing his head so his curls flew back away from his eyes. He climbed into the car, breathing heavily.  
"You didn't have to honk the horn." he panted, pulling the safety belt around his shoulder and fastening it securely. Buffy tucked her papers in her briefcase and turned around as she backed out of the driveway, her eyes drifting to her son briefly to give him a look.  
"Sure I didn't. "she said sarcastically, "You're lucky you don't take the bus. Buses don't wait like moms do."  
"I know." he replied simply, shrugging a slender shoulder. She smiled at him in the rear-view mirror.  
"Now, Nicholas William Sheffield, what is so important about this day?" she quizzed him, her eyes scrunching menacingly.  
"Wesley's not picking me up at school, you are. And then we are gonna go to the airport to get Gram and Aunt Willow." Nicholas replied, staring at suburban Philadelphia slipping passed, "Do they still look the same?"  
"Since you last saw them? I hope so. Its been a couple of years though. Do you even remember what they look like?" Buffy asked curiously.  
"We have pictures, mom." he said in an obvious voice. Buffy grinned.  
"Yeah yeah yeah. None of that attitude once Gram is here, got it, buster?"  
"Uh-huh."   
Buffy pulled up slowly to the school and slipped the gear into park. She turned in her seat to look at the boy.  
"Whats the matter?"   
"Nothing. Just thinkin'." he sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his backpack on.  
"About...?" Buffy pried, searching her son's beautiful features.  
"Will Dad ever come out with them?" he asked suddenly. Buffy blinked and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear.  
"Maybe, honey. I told you that things between your daddy and me were not good when I left California. Someday, though, I promise. You deserve to meet him. And he should know about you."  
"Did you not tell him about me because you hate him?" he asked with wide-eyed innocence.   
"Oh, christ, no. Quite the opposite, Nicholas." she smiled sadly and then reached back and patted his demin-clad knee, "You had better go. Lateness is a bad habit of yours." Buffy winked.  
He slid out of the car and waved to her before jogging up the steps to the school.  
--- --- ---  
Buffy had moved to Philadelphia when she was given a job at a local resteraunt after her mom had set up a phone interview. She expected the job to be a positive step forward, starting a new life and making money to make that life good. But what she encountered when she had arrived was quite the opposite.   
Rupert Giles, the man who had given her the job, was only the oppressed and mistreated manager, and the owner of the establishment, Quinton Travers, was the nazi-like owner. Giles and Buffy had instantly formed a bond which led to their conspiring to eventually buy the resteraunt from Mr. Travers, and make it the successful Bar and Grill it had to potential to be. Four years after the birth of Nicholas, Giles and Buffy had done just that. They renamed the place Rustic Bend, and were soon joined by Giles's daughter Winifred, who became manager, and his nephew Wesley, who handled the finances and the inventory, therefore creating a happy foursome with a successful business.  
Morning sunlight streamed in the wide stylish windows of Rustic Bend, causing the glass of the table tops and the glossy surface of the bar to radiate. Buffy smiled as she entered the room, hearing Fred and Wesley trading British insults in the kitchen goodnaturedly. Giles sat humming as he typed away on his laptop at the bar directly in front of her. Buffy sidled up to him, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  
"Hey papa." she said sweetly, giving him a peck on his temple before sliding onto the stool next to him. Giles beamed and closed the laptop to give her his complete attention.  
"I didn't think you'd be coming in today, Buffy." he said, his fatherly smile still firmly in place.  
"Yeah, I just wanted to stop by before I head back home to get it clean for my mom."  
"Your home is always clean. I don't think you can get it any cleaner, dear." Giles teased.   
"Yea-up, well, thats me: the overachiever." Buffy grinned and drummed her fingernails on the bar as her eyes wandered admiringly around the resteraunt, "I can't wait to show mom this place. And Willow too. They'll be so impressed."  
"They saw it the last time they were here, did they not?"   
"Yeah, but it wasn't renovated yet. And we hadn't been successful yet. It was only a year after we bought it. Things didn't take off until 2 years ago. And now..."  
"...Rustic Bend is the premiere bar and finest grill in Philadelphia." Giles finished proudly. Buffy nodded in enthusiastic agreement.  
"Hello, Buffy! Excited to see your mother and chum?" Wesley asked, pushing through the kitchen doors quickly to avoid the spray of water his cousin was attacking him with.  
"Mm, yeah. You two aren't making a mess of my kitchen are you?" Buffy asked with suspicion. Welsey turned red and straightened his tie.  
"Certainly not." he stuttered. Then Fred pushed her way through and climbed up on the bar, a falsely innocent expression on her pretty face. Buffy gave them both an amused smirk, and then gathered her things and started for the door.  
"Well, guys, try not to burn the place down before my mom swoons about how proud she is of me. And Wes, remember, I'm picking up my kid today."  
"I had remembered!" Wesley called after her. She blew them all a kiss and exited her resteraunt with a bounce in her step.  
--- --- ---  
Nicholas sat in awe of his grandmother, mother, and mother's best friend's ability to talk and laugh with such speed the whole way back to their house. Now he continued to be overwhelmed with the women's chatter as they all sat in the family room. Suddenly they all shrieked with laughter, Buffy setting down the tray of coffee and cookies before she collapsed on the couch in a fit of giggles. Nicholas couldn't help but smile- her family and friends from California always made her the happiest.  
"So anyway, we brought some pictures!" Willow announced with flair, grabbing her purse and pulling out a large envelope.  
"Guys, you send me pictures all the time online!" Buffy groaned, passing her mother a large mug of hazelnut coffee, "Why do I need to see more?"  
"Hush. Look at them." Willow commanded sternly, tossing the envelope to her friend. Buffy flipped through them, a wistful smile on her face. Nicholas moved over to the couch and sat down next to her.  
"That's Xander and Anya and their kid Dawn and new baby Janice." Buffy told Nicholas, showing him the glossy paper with a smiling dark-haired man holding a tiny baby next to a perky looking blonde with her arms around a girl with impossibly huge blue eyes.  
"And this is Faith, my cousin, at Gram's house in Sunnydale, with...Angel!?" Buffy's eyes shot up to Willow.  
"Yeah, they are engaged or something. It wasn't my idea." Willow said darkly, her face twisting in disgust.   
"Oh well. Hey, look on the bright side! We'll be cousins-in-law!" Buffy offered enthusiastically. Willow grinned.  
"Keep looking through the pictures." she urged. Buffy began to flip through them again.  
"This is the Bronze, the club where I used to work with your daddy." she told the curious Nicholas, "And here is Tara and Oz performing with their band BlackCharis. Still going strong, huh?" Buffy asked Willow.  
"Who, me and Oz? or BlackCharis?"  
"I KNOW you and Oz are fine. I heard your squeals after he proposed from all the way over here on the East Coast. And I see that humongous rock on your finger."  
Willow had the decency to look slightly embaressed before answering, "Yeah, well, you know how it is...And BlackCharis is doing great! And so is Tara. She's been dating a male nurse named Ben."  
"That cutie from Sunnydale Family Practice? Wow, I didn't think he was her type. Guess you never know." Buffy mused, turning to the next picture. Suddenly she stopped and stared with shock at the picture.  
Of course it was a picture of Spike. She had a few on her computer, but rarely looked at them, and never let Nicholas see them. This was a photograph of just him, his guitar strapped to his body, and his arms hanging loosely next to his body, the veins and muscles slightly shadowed so they were visible. The black tank he wore seemed painted on his torso, and his hair was gelled in dark curls with sharp white tips. He had a look of seriousness on his face as he stared fixingly at the camera, his pale and firey blue eyes piercing her soul. Buffy's gaze shot to Nicholas.  
"Is that him?" Nicholas asked quietly. Buffy could do nothing but nod. "I look like him." he continued simply.   
Joyce and Willow shared a concerned look when Buffy's glistening eyes turned to them.  
"Why did you put this picture in here? You know I-" she stopped when her voice cracked.  
"We just wanted to put him into your head. Remind you that he is still out there, waiting." Willow explained shyly.  
"Oh, Willow, he is always in my head. I am constantly reminded. Look around you." Buffy waved her arm to indicate all of Spike's artwork that surrounded them and adorned the house, "Plus, I am kinda raising his son."  
All eyes turned to Nicholas. He brought his knees up to his chest and set his chin atop them and stared firmly back.   
"Honey, its late. Why don't you head to bed?" Buffy urged Nicholas, doing her best to mask the emotion in her voice. Nicholas nodded obediantly and kissed his mother's smooth cheek, gave his grandmother a hug, and waved to Willow before climbing the stairs. Buffy breathed a deep sigh and busied herself by gathering the dishes and carrying them to the kitchen. Joyce assisted her, her face a picture of anxious loving.  
"Buffy, he is still waiting." she repeated, her warm motherly tones breaking the silence of the kitchen. Buffy had her back to her, but Joyce could see her deflate, her hands clutching the counter for support.  
"After nine years, mom? He should be married, with a kid, and a dog, and a house where they eat kellogs and like to ride bikes. Not waiting for his best friend to return." Buffy replied.  
"And yet he waits. He's Spike. He never moves on, remember?" Joyce joked lightly and put her hand on her daughter's back, "At least let us give you his e-mail address or phone number. You need to talk to him. He needs to know about his son, Buffy Anne Summers."  
"I don't want him to." Buffy whimpered selfishly.  
"If you didn't want him to know, you wouldn't have given Nicholas the middle name 'William' and the last name 'Sheffield'." Joyce pointed out gently. Buffy turned to face her, eyes full of glassy tears.  
"Oh mom, " she cried brokenly, wrapping her arms around Joyce and burying her head in her mother's neck. "I still love him so much. What if he rejects us again? Its all so ripped apart, I don't..."  
Joyce held her tightly, and kissed her head. "Sweetie, its time to mend the rip. Try again. Time has made you both older and wiser and more mature about such matters." she said wisely, pulling back so she could look into Buffy's tear stained face. Buffy nodded miserably, her lips curled into an enormous pout. "I'll give you his phone number, but you must promise to call him. Tonight. Got it?"  
Buffy nodded again, although her eyes displayed that she had no intention of doing so. Joyce sighed and wrote Spike's name and phone number down neatly on a piece of paper and stuck it on the refridgerator. She gave her daughter a lingering and encouraging glance before setting a goodnight kiss on her forehead and heading to the guest room.  
Buffy stared at the phone. And continued to stare. Then she shut off the lights, and went to bed herself, her mind so full that she never even fell asleep.  
--- --- ---  
*RING, RING*  
Spike stared at the phone for a moment before getting up from his canvas and putting the reciever to his ear.  
" 'ullo?" he mumbled into it, his eyes still watching the canvas.  
"Spike, its Joyce." the female voice crackled over the line. Spike's eyebrows shot up in surprise.  
"Yeah, what can I do for you, Mrs. Summers?" he asked warily.  
"Look, I know I haven't been particularly giving to you over the past 9 years. Buffy asked me not to disclose her location to you, and I respected her wishes, even though it hurt you. But it is my feeling that enough time has gone by, and she isn't quite brave enough to fix things, which is understandable, but sad. Anyway, the point is, I leave here in 3 days. Make your move then." she said with intent. Spike held the phone more securely, as if trying to grasp the words Joyce had just said to him.  
"Wha' ?" is all he could reply.  
"Look at your caller ID." she commanded cryptically, and then hung up.   
Spike's eyes shot to the tiny white box next to his phone.  
Summers, Buffy Anne  
Philadelphia, PA  
215-555-6526  
His heart started pounding in his chest. He found her. No more running away, on either of their parts. 


	17. Dogwood

Six days with sleepless nights later, Spike was cruising down the highway in his rented car, heading for the upper-class suburban area of Philadelphia. He glanced down at the tiny post-it note on the dashboard for the hundredth time in the last hour.  
Buffy Summers  
4620 Dogwood Avenue  
Spike smiled. Dogwood Avenue. Sounded like it was out of a storybook, and the perfect place for Buffy to live. With her golden hair, and rosy complexion, he imagined her sitting in the lacy sunlight beaming through the branches of a great oaktree in the backyard of her beautiful home...   
Stop it, Spike, he scolded himself. The more time that had passed since her departure, the more exquisite and unreal Buffy became to him. Like some goddess that he couldn't touch, and most certainly wasn't worthy to even attempt to touch, therefore, by extension, had no right to romanticize her. He had destroyed what they had. It was HIS fault. Time to make it right. He gritted his teeth and grasped the steering wheel more tightly and followed the directions that his palm pilot displayed for him.  
---  
There it was. 4620 Dogwood Avenue, the elegant brass numbers and letters curling up the brick beside the enormous front door. It was a two story home, with wide old fashoined windows and two gigantic maple trees that dominated the front yard. Spike stood on the flagstone front walk, and whistled low in admiration of the luxury of the place. She had certainly done something right to live in a home like this. He took a deep breath and adjusted his short leather jacket, pulled off his sunglasses, and swallowed his fear and raised his hand to ring the door bell. It chimed through the house. No answer. Spike let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Okay, so she wasn't inside. But it was a nice day, perhaps she was out back. He tentatively stepped off the porch and wandered around the side of the brick home, noticing the flowers and the ivy climbing up the walls, cut carefully around the windows.   
The backyard was long and wide, with a hill covered with trees before it was cut off by an old wood fence. The back porch stretched out fifteen feet, making space for a swing, and table and chairs, a grill, and a hottub, all covered with a trellis of trumpet vine. Spike sighed again with awe. And then he stopped abruptly.  
A swingset. A sandbox. A tree house with a pirate's flag waving boldly in the breeze. Mats set up in a small baseball diamond. A large concrete pad behind the garage with a basketball hoop. A large trampoline.   
Spike was so blinded by the elegant beauty of Buffy's home that he hadn't even noticed these things at first. And now they all crashed into him at once.  
Buffy, HIS Buffy, had children.  
--- --- ---  
"An' see, thats the beauty of it all. I tol' her to give me space. Well, she bloody well gave me space. She bloody well got married an' had kids. Mum didn't tell me tha' when she called. No siree. Sent me here to break my heart again, she did. Didn't know it would break my heart though, since I'm the cold fuckin' wanker who left 'er first. Right?"   
The bartender nodded sympathetically before serving another guest. It was nearly closing time, and there were only four pathetic men still left drinking. This Spike guy had been hanging out all evening, alternating between playing pool and wallowing in his sorrows.   
"Doyle, you're nearly ready to close, correct?" Fred asked the bartender from the kitchen.  
"Yes, ma'am." Doyle replied, wiping down the counter. "Just have to ring a few taxi's. Got a couple of drunks tonight."   
Fred nodded and disappeared into the kitchen again. Doyle turned back to Spike, whose head rested drunkenly on the surface of the bar, drool leaking from his lips. Doyle shook his head and reached for the phone when someone caught his eye.  
"Miss Summers, what are you doing here so late?" he asked his employer cheerily. Buffy smiled as she pulled on her jacket and walked towards the bar.  
"Hey Doyle. I just had some stuff to talk to Giles about, but lost track of time as usual. Gotta get home to my kid now. You almost re-" she stopped talking when her eyes fell on the head with bleached-tipped black curls that rested on the counter.  
"Another drunk guy. He's not a regular though. I think he just passed out. I was about to call a taxi for him." Doyle explained when he saw where Buffy's gaze lay.   
Buffy walked forward, her knees feeling weak with disbelief as she moved to get a better view of his sleeping features. Her blood rushed with recognition as her fingers moved on their own accord to touch his cheek. Smooth and sharp, just as she remembered.   
"Know 'im?" Doyle asked in his Irish lilt. Buffy nodded absently, still staring into the face of her lover. Doyle cleared his throat uncomfortably, pulling Buffy from her thoughts. She jerked her hand back and looked up at Doyle.  
"Yeah, he's an old friend from California. Don't worry about the taxi. I'll take him home with me."  
--- --- ---  
Buffy half carried, half dragged Spike up the curving staircase of her home, and placed his body carefully on the bed of the guest room before going back downstairs to pay the babysittter. She sighed as she locked the door behind the departing girl, and turned off the lights.  
Spike was upstairs. She could hardly believe it. It seemed too good to be true, and too terrible to contemplate all at one time. Nicholas was sound asleep, and he slept like the dead, so Buffy was confident that he didn't hear his mother put his drunken father in the guest room.   
She climbed the stairs slowly, her mind so full it made her heart ache. Kissing her son softly on the head, she pulled his door shut before moving to the room that enclosed the love of her life, her ex-best friend.  
Spike lay in the light that streamed in from the hallway. Buffy smiled at her bittersweet nostalgia as she put a large glass of water, a bottle of asprin, and a bucket of ice with two beers in it on the bedside stand for him when he woke up. Then she bent down gently and brushed a kiss across his scarred eyebrow.  
"Goodnight Spike. I love you still. Always." she smiled sadly into his skin before pulling away. "See you in the morning."  
And she pulled the door shut and went to bed herself, a peace settling over her that both of her most cherished men were safe asleep under one roof. 


	18. Son

Spike awoke with the entire Naval Drum Corps in his head, and the sunlight beaming sharply between the blinds didn't help either. He groaned pathetically and grabbed a pillow to smother his head with. Then he noticed the feel, smell, and color of the pillow. Where the hell was he? He sat up abruptly only to regret it a second later and collapse back into the pillows.   
Way to intensify your headache, mate, he sarcastically congratulated himself, clenching his teeth and squinting his eyes shut desperately to ward off the pain. Rolling slightly to his side, he opened his eyes cautiously to get a feel for his surroundings. A bucket of cold water with two beers, a bottle of asprin, and a glass of water with a note taped to the side greeted him. The scrawled handwriting that read "Spike" on the outside of the note confirmed his disbelieving, but hopeful suspicions. He tentatively reached out and pulled the paper from its place and opened it in the warm light of the afternoon.  
--  
  
'Spike~  
  
'Relax, you haven't been kidnapped. Just be glad you have friends in high places. I left you the best hangover cure I know- some bartender at the Bronze back when I was in college taught it to me. Ring any bells? Anyway, I'm around the house doing housework, so you can come and find me if and when you are ready. If not, then get more sleep, you were pretty "shnockered".   
  
'~Buffy'  
  
--  
Spike smiled slightly, and ran his finger over her signature. Then he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up carefully, not to jar himself again. He downed the beers, water, and asprin in several moments, eager in a scared sort of way to see Buffy again. The sound of a dirt devil reached his ears and he ran his hands over his face and curls before standing up and moving towards the closed door.  
His door opened into a wide hallway, one side lined with doors, and the other, the part in front of him, lined with a railing that overlooked the foyer and led to the gigantic staircase. Buffy was on the staircase, her hair pulled back with a bandana and headphones overtop. She was vaccuming the carpet that ran down the hardwood steps, bobbing her head to her music, and mouthing along. Spike bit back a smile and approached nervously. She didn't notice him stepping down the stairs as she continued her work. He reached out and brushed her bare shoulder with the tips of his shaking fingers.   
Buffy whirrled around, startled, and then was instantly pinned by two hot, rain-washed blue eyes. She dropped the cordless vaccum in surprise and blushed instantly when it went crashing down the steps. Spike's eyebrow arched amusedly and he reached out again to pull the blaring headphones away from her ears. Buffy's face flared even brighter and she quickly tugged them off herself, wanting his touch desperately, but not wanting it even more. Her fingers found the stop button on the discman. Silence settled over the foyer as Buffy and Spike looked into each other's eyes for the first time in 9 years.  
"Hi." Buffy breathed, hand over her tanktop-clad chest and rapidly beating heart.  
"Hi." Spike responded, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. Oh, what the hell...he thought before speaking again, "May I hug you?"   
Buffy's eyes grew wider and she nodded stupidly. He put his arms around her waist, ever so slowly, and pulled her against his chest. She let herself grow weak in his arms, and closed her eyes to keep herself from crying with the utter joy and sorrow of being in his embrace again. Spike dropped his head to her shoulder and breathed in the scent of her hair and skin. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, putting her nose into the folds of his leather jacket that she hadn't bothered to remove from him the night before.  
She pulled away when the emotion in her body almost caused her to collapse completely into his strength. She wiped her nose and smiled nervously.  
"So...how are you feeling this morning?" she asked him, uncomfortably playing with the curled ends of her ponytail that lay over her shoulder.  
"Better. I need to take a shower though. I smell like a soddin' drunk. How'd you find me?"  
"Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" she said with a pointed look, then shook her head and waved her hand in the air, "Never mind that. We'll talk about that when you aren't in hangover state. Well, it just so happens that the bar you decided to drink at is the bar I happen to co-own. Rustic Bend is mine."   
Spike's eyes lit up with respect and astonishment, "Wow, way to go. It was a nice place. Wha' I remember of it was nice, I mean." he joked, eyes flitting down the staircase to look around curiously, "So you live here with your family?"  
Buffy took a deep breath, "Spike, again, I think we should talk about this later. Why don't you go get a shower and stuff? Dinner will be ready in about an hour and a half. You slept the day away."   
He nodded and turned to head up the stairs again when he saw a gigantic painting on the wall next to the door to the guest room. When he looked down more of the hall that was visible he saw more like it. He turned back to Buffy, a delighted light in his eyes.  
"Those are mine." he stated softly, a warm feeling spreading through his chest that she was displaying his artwork even after all these years.  
Buffy looked down bashfully, "Yeah, well, you left them. I kept them. And then Mom told me that you stepped out of your shell and started sending your work to her gallery, so every christmas since then she has sent me a piece for my gift." she explained, shrugging her shoulders, "Just because you and I have problems, doesn't mean I hate what you have made. They are beautiful."   
Spike turned back at her mention of their problems, and looked at her with emotional eyes,   
"Buffy.." he started beseechingly. Buffy raised her hand again to cut him off.  
"Forget it, Spike. We'll talk about it later. Go get cleaned up. My friend Wesley from the Bend is gonna bring by your rental car in a couple of minutes, and I'm assuming your suitcase is in there, so I'll bring it up and put it outside the bathroom door for you, okay?"  
He nodded slowly and gave her one last lingering look before climbing the top few stairs and disappearing into the guest room.  
--- --- ---  
"Mom! Wes said that Dad was here!" Nicholas exclaimed, bursting into the kitchen where Buffy was preparing dinner. Wesley followed close behind.   
"Yes, he is. But I don't believe it was Wes's news to tell." she replied, giving Welsey a firey look. Wesley blushed slightly and sat on the stool that sat opposite of the huge, gleaming kitchen.   
"Terribly sorry, Buffy. I didn't realize that he didn't know. I was under the impression that he would have found out about William since he spent the night." Wesley explained, looking at Buffy through his oval glasses.  
"Dad was here all night!?" Nicholas shouted, dropping his backpack on the counter and putting his hands on his hips. Buffy shot Wes another look before looking down at her son.  
"Yes, he was. But he was completely passed out. He's upstairs taking a shower right now, you'll meet him at dinner. Now take your hands off your hips- you look like your mom when you do that." Buffy scolded goodnaturedly, pulling the backpack off the counter and thrusting it back into Nicholas's hands. "Wes, could you take Spike's suitcase up to the guest bathroom and just put it outside the door for me?"  
Wesley nodded and grabbed the large leather duffle and bounded clumsily up the staircase.   
"How's Wes getting home?" Buffy asked Nicholas as she began to cut up carrots for the salad.  
"Giles is gonna be here in a coupla minutes t'get him." Nicholas mumbled, searching through the pantry for an after-baseball-practice snack. Buffy frowned and picked up a carrot piece, tossing it at the boy's mop of raven-colored curly hair. He turned around abruptly and gave his mom a pouty look.  
"That was for getting into the snacks when we are gonna have dinner in 20 minutes. Go upstairs and start your homework. I have a feeling that once you meet your Dad you won't want to do it anymore." she ordered, pointing at the steps with the knife. Nicholas stuck his bottom lip out even more, but obeyed his mother's command. Wes passed him on the way into the kitchen, just as Giles opened the storm door from the garage and stepped in.  
"Buffy, it smells absolutely divine in here." Giles commented, putting his arm around her small shoulders and squeezing lightly.  
"We have this recipe at the Bend, Uncle Rupert, we just haven't put it on the menu yet." Wesley said, reaching over the bar and putting his finger in the spicy chicken sauce, and then licking it off. Buffy smacked his hand.  
"Thank-you, Giles. And Wes, stay outta there. And yes, it is at the Bend, we should put it on the menu next month. It tastes like a Buffalo wing sauce, only better. Very summery. We have to change the menu for summer. It will put a nice twist on everything for our regulars. But then we gotta return to our original menu because I hate it when you have a dish you really like, and then a resteraunt changes everything and you never get the dish you want ever again. And-"  
"Buffy, dear, you are babbling." Giles interrupted her perky rant. Buffy's eyes filled with shameful realization and she nodded weakly.  
"Can you tell I'm nervous?" she whispered, looking up at Giles timidly.   
"And you have every right to be. This is a nerve-wracking event: your son is meeting his father for the first time, and you need to discuss with him everything that went wrong back then, and what has happened since then. You both need to find out if you still need each other, and what Nicholas needs." Giles said softly, putting both hands on Buffy's shoulders and turning her towards him. She looked down at her shoes as he spoke. Then he tucked his finger under her chin and urged her to look up at him, "But Buffy, through it all, you know you will always have us."  
Buffy smiled waterly, and nodded before throwing her arms around his neck and letting him hug her like her father never did.   
"So tell us simply everything about him." Wesley said eagerly when Buffy pulled away from Giles.  
"No." she said simply, but smiling.  
"Oh come on now, dear, we want to know this man who has your love." Giles prodded teasingly, trying to lift her nervous spirits.  
"I don't ask you for every detail about Jenny, Giles." Buffy answered, raising her eyebrow at him before looking at Wesley, "And I don't ask you everything about Lilah. So keep your filthy, metaphorical paws off my details of my relationship with Spike."   
Wesley heaved a great sigh and slid off his stool, walking around the island to stand next to his uncle. "Very well, then. I guess we are doomed to ignorance until we get to know him ourselves."  
"Darn tootin'." Buffy grinned weakly, and then shooed them out of the kitchen, "Now, please leave. Its time for the Sheffield boys and the Summers girl to see what happens next without the British commentary."  
"Isn't Spike British?" Giles asked knowingly, even while Buffy was backing him out the door.   
"Yes. But I meant you and your annoying nephew. Now goodbye." she said pleasantly, and shut the door in their faces.  
Buffy smiled when she heard them beep the horn as the pulled out of the driveway, and drive off into the twilight. The salad was done, the table set. It wasn't too fancy, but nicer than the normal dinners she shared with Nicholas. She didn't want it to make it seem like a huge deal that Spike was there, even though it was. In fact, Buffy was more angry at Spike as the day went on, wondering how in the world he found her, and why. She just hoped that meeting Nicholas would...would what? She didn't know. She just hoped it wouldn't be a messy disaster.  
Creeping over to the foyer, she cocked her head to listen to the noise carrying from upstairs. Nicholas had his music on, some band he was obsessed with called Four Star Mary, so she couldn't hear what was going on in the guest room, but she could tell that the water was off, so Spike should be down soon. She ducked back into the kitchen when she heard Nicholas thunder down the steps.  
"I'm hungry!" he announced, tearing through the kitcen as only boys do. Buffy laughed and smacked him with the edge of a hand towel that had been laying on the counter. He whirrled around as he slid on the hardwood floor, and shot his mom a wicked look. She squealed when he grabbed an ovenmit and hurled it at her.   
"Oooh, I'm gonna get you for that!" she warned, turning on the faucet and sticking her fingers under the water. Then she pulled them away and flicked droplets of cold water at her rambuncious eight year old. He giggled and fell to the floor, crawling around the side of the island. She stopped and listened to see where he went, when just then he jumped up onto the bar, grabbed the sprayer and held the lever down on it, causing the water from the faucet to transfer to the spray nozzle.   
"Take this, Mama!" He shouted, giving his best version of an evil laugh of doom. Buffy shrieked when the cold spray hit her bare arms that she held over her face to protect herself.   
"You're in trouble now, Nicholas William Sheffield!! I'm so gonna ground you for that." she laughed, lunging forward and wrenching the nozzle from his grasp. They were both laughing and breathing hard when the man in the doorway caught their attention. Buffy's face paled.  
"Nicholas...William....Sheffield..." Spike repeated in utter disbelief and awe, staring at the black curls, bright hazel eyes, and defined facial structure of the wet boy sitting on the counter. Nicholas and Buffy shared a look, before both turning back to Spike.   
"Hi, Dad!" Nicholas broke the silence perkily, and jumped into the astonished arms of William Sheffield. 


	19. Remember

FOR BETTER FORMAT: READ AT WWW.SPUFFYARCHIVES.COM  
A/N- This one is for those enthusiastic reviewers that have LOVED my 9 year time jump. And for elegant Lady Anne, who beta's with accuracy and speed. I feel bad sending her so many chapters, but she never complains!  
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Spike couldn't take his eyes off of Nicholas throughout dinner. He knew better than to try to discuss the implications of this child with Buffy now, and Nicholas knew better than to say more things that would make everything even more uncomfortable. Both males sat studying each other while Buffy kept glancing nervously back and forth between them while she took tiny bites of chicken.  
"How was baseball practice today, Nicholas?" Buffy asked softly, breaking the silence that hung over the table.  
"Awesome! I hit a home-run and the ball flew like a bazillion miles away. Mikey Rellison hadta climb in the bushes behind the fence to get it." Nicholas said excitedly, tossing a piece of carrot up the air and hitting it with his knife to demonstrate his triumph. The vegatable slice flew across the table, only to be caught by Spike. He winked at Nicholas before popping it into his mouth. Nicholas grinned and glanced at his mom, who had a smile glimmering on her own lips.  
"Do you play soccer, too? Thats my favorite sport. Used to play it back in England." Spike spoke up. Nicholas nodded, his mouth full.  
"Yeah. He's pretty good too. He plays every sport he can get into. Even horseback riding." Buffy informed Spike proudly, leaning back after she finished her dinner. Pride tinted Spike's face as well, and he looked back at Nicholas with his eyes sparkling. "Honey, why don't you go finish your homework while I clear the table and then we'll all watch a movie tonight, okay?"  
"If I hafta..." he whined, sliding out of his chair. Buffy raised an motherly 'Don't argue' eyebrow at him, and he slunk out of the dining room. A second later he jumped back in, and threw his arms around sitting Spike's shoulders, squeezed, let go just as abruptly, and then galloped up the steps. Spike looked dazedly into space, his hands coming up to touch the part of his shoulders where his son hugged him. Buffy ducked her head as she blushed and busied herself with clearing the table.  
Spike took a deep breath and watched Buffy seriously, combing his fingers through his dark hair.   
"I can't believe this." he muttered to her. She paused slightly and glanced at him, and then wiped her hands on a cloth as she finished up.   
"Wanna take a walk?" she asked the man staring at her. Spike nodded and stood up, his eyes simmering with emotion and intent to get all answers. Buffy scribbled a note to Nicholas, pulled on a sweater and waved at Spike to follow her out to the veranda.   
They walked in silence for a moment, up the hill and into the woods. He offered his hand to help her over the fence but she ignored him and leapt over herself. Then they proceeded to wander into the moonlit forest. He finally broke the silence.  
"Why..." Spike began, his voice pathetically broken, "Why didn't you tell me?"  
Buffy took a gigantic breath before speaking, "Hmm...I tried once. A long time ago. It was one of those days, you know? Nicholas was 4 months old, and crying so hard. I couldn't get him to stop. I was living in a dingy apartment downtown, my job sucked. I was so poor. And so frusterated with Nicholas...god, it was horrible. So I called Oz and asked for the number where you were staying." Buffy took another breath, and buried her hands in her pockets, bending her head as she spoke, "He said you were living in Los Angeles, and gave me the number. I was in tears when I called it. Your voicemail picked up. And then I hung up, threw away the number and moved on."  
He stopped walking to stare at her, feeling the anger and regret grow in his chest, "God, Buffy, if you would have just given me a chance and-"  
"And what!? Left a message? 'Hi Spike, its Buffy, your Best Friend turned One Night Stand, remember me? Just called to say hi! By the way, I just gave birth to your son!' " Buffy laughed in disbelief at Spike's nod, "Get a grip! I couldn't do that! I decided the moment I heard your stupid voicemail that I was gonna raise Nicholas alone. I didn't want you involved."  
"He was- IS...my repsonsiblity too!" Spike shouted back, "I bloody well DESERVED to know about him!!"  
"I loved you, Spike. And you hurt me. SO. MUCH. Remember Parker telling me that the monumental night to me was just for fun for him? Remember Riley telling me that I wasn't the long-haul girl? Remember Forrest telling me that I was only good for sex? Yeah, well, remember Spike, telling me to give him space after I told him how much I loved him?" Buffy pointed out mockingly, "You've been added to the wonderful list of men who have ripped me apart inside!! Why would I bring you into my son's life!?"  
"Because he's MINE. And if I'm one of those horrible guys, then why did you even try to call me that one time?" Spike asked coldly, stepping forward and getting into Buffy's angry face.  
"I was frusterated! Hurt! Confused! Hungry! Lonely! Poor! Do you need more pathetic words that would describe me?" Buffy shot back, "It was a moment of weakness. I was tired. And then I remembered how I didn't want to depend on other people anymore. I always needed someone back in California. I needed you, I needed Riley, and Willow, and Faith, even Xander, Anya, Tara. And I lost people over my need. I was always little Buffy who needed a best friend. And then I came here, and I had no one, except this tiny boy who was....my gift and curse at the same time. And I had to be strong. For once in my fucking life I had to do it myself. For me, and for Nicholas."   
Buffy's voice grew achingly soft as she finished talking, her face falling from its proud and fighting position, to a timid one. Spike itched to touch her, but instead took a step back.  
"Buffy..." he began, and left the word to fade into the dark forest surrounding them. Buffy sniffed, and looked up at him, eyes full and watery.  
"I...I'm sorry that I didn't try to get in touch with you. I really am. But do you get why I didn't?" she breathed, tilting her head seriously, pleading almost, for him to understand. Spike looked into her eyes, and found himself understanding everything about why she had disappeared from his life for 9 years. He stepped forward again, eyes never leaving hers.  
Buffy gasped when his fingers touched her neck, and then slid upward into her hair. His other hand followed suit, so he stood, holding her head, thumbs gently caressing her jawbone.  
"Spike..." she breathed in hesitation, blinking slowly as her heartbeat picked up. He leaned forward, and ever. so. softly. pressed his lips to hers.   
She was falling...everything was crumbling around her. All of her strength rushed out her body as Spike's lips opened against her bottom lip. Her hands slid up his leather-clad chest on their own accord, pulling his hard torso against hers by his lapels. Then suddenly her conscious stung her hazy thoughts, and her fingers opened from a clutch to a push, making Spike stumble back several feet. She heaved in breaths as she stared at him, her lips rosy from his attentions, and her cheeks flushed for the same reason.  
"No. No. No." she babbled, "Not fair. Can't do that. Just because you feel...sorry for me. Don't! Just don't! I'm fine. It was a temporary moment of insanity, right Spike? Thats why you...did...that. Right? Because, I'm the...mother of your child or something. But..never again. Temporary moment." she repeated, then her eyes lit up with exclamation, "Oh! We have to go see if Nicholas is finished with his homework! Its time for movie night!"   
And with that, she whirrled around and marched back to the house.  
--- --- ---  
Spike slipped into the french doors from the veranda, noting how dark the house was but for a flickering blue light coming from a room he assumed was the den. He followed the sound of a cast of young men singing along to the Temptation's 'Aint No Mountain High Enough' in a football locker room. Spike stopped in the doorway and smiled at Nicholas, who was sprawled out on the floor, singing along with the movie, and Buffy, who was curled up in an blanket and watching distractedly.  
"Hi Dad!" Nicholas exclaimed when he noticed Spike leaning in the arched doorway, "Tonight's movie is 'Remember the Titans'...ever seen it?"  
"Nope, can't say as I have." Spike replied, walking into the room, his eyes on Buffy. She dropped her eyes to the blanket and began playing with the fringe. He began to sit on the floor next to Nicholas before the boy stopped him.  
"No! Sit on the couch with Mom!" he demanded cheerfully. Spike looked back and forth between his son and Buffy.  
"Nicholas, I think he wants to sit with you." she said, her eyes growing wide with uncomfort.  
"No, he doesn't, do ya, Dad? Sit with Mom." he commanded, settling back down to his place on the floor. Spike sighed and lowered himself on the other side of the love seat, arm extending over the back of the couch, unconsciously invading Buffy's personal space. She was conscious though, aware of him so completely, so she jumped up.  
"How about popcorn? I'll make it the old fashoined way!" she said perkily, and quickly left the room. Nicholas sighed loudly as he watched his mother leave the room eagerly.  
"Tha' was a heavy sigh for such a little kid. Wha's up?" Spike asked curiously. Nicholas turned around and stared at Spike seriously.  
"How well do ya know Mom?"   
"Used to know her better than anyone. 'S been a while though, bit, why?" Spike asked, leaning back and threading his fingers behind his head, obviously impressed with the maturity of his son.  
"She gets all fluttery and silly when she's nervous or upset. I hate it when she gets like that. She is usually so much sturdier. You make her nervous." Nicholas stated, taking the remote and pausing the movie so he could talk to his dad.  
"Yeah.." Spike responded softly.  
"It make sense though," Nicholas continued, "she said you an' her didn't part well."   
"Wha' else did she tell you about us? 'm surprised it was even revealed to you." Spike said honestly.  
"Mom didn't want me to be stupid about you and her. I've known for a long time, and not much, just the little stuff. I didn't even know what you looked like until a week ago. But I did know that I had a dad, and he lived in California, and I was named after him."  
"Nicholas William Sheffield." Spike whistled low in disbelief, "Never would have thought a child would be named after me. Never thought I'd have one. So Nick, congratulations on changing my life."  
Nicholas laughed, "No one ever calls me Nick. Mom doesn't like it."  
"Yeah, well, I'm your father, and if I want to call you Nick, bit, I will." Spike growled back.   
"Nick-Bit?" Nicholas asked, his nose scrunching up in a way that looked so much like Buffy.   
"Wha', don't like it?" Spike teased, pulling a pillow from the end of the couch and contemplating on throwing it at his son.   
"Actually," Nicholas began, his smile growing so wide that his dimples were showing, "Its cool. My dad has his own nickname for me. I kinda like that."  
Nicholas's smile turned shy at the pride, joy, and awe that washed over Spike's face so apparently. They shared a look, before Spike decided that it was time for this little boy to get his first beat-down from his father.  
"So did your mum ever tell you how much I like pillow fights?"  
---   
When Buffy returned to the den with a heaping bowl of popcorn, she found the room a complete disaster area of pillows, blankets, and other soft objects, and Spike in the center holding a laughing Nicholas in a headlock. No matter how stressed she was by the kiss in the woods or Spike's general presence, nothing could keep the huge beaming smile that graced her lips at the scene before her.  
"You guys are bad!" she scolded, though it was betrayed by her laugh that followed.  
"He hasn't cried 'uncle' yet." Spike explained, tickling the boy. Nicholas laughed hysterically and kicked his legs, trying desperately to get away.   
Buffy set the bowl down and walked across the room to stoop down and help Nicholas, who collapsed in her arms, gulping for breath.  
"Thanks for savin' me, Mom!" he gasped. Buffy's one perfectly shaped eyebrow rose suspiciously.  
"Oh you think I'm saving you, do you? Have you forgotten that little incident with the sprayer before dinner?" she whispered predatorially in his ear. Then suddenly her manicured nails were upon him, tickling into a giggling frenzy. Spike laughed at her attack and decided to give Nicholas a hand, so he brought a pillow from behind his back and swung it at Buffy. She stopped her assault and stared at Spike wide-eyed.  
"It was a draw 9 years ago on that evening I moved into the apartment." he said innocently, while grabbing another pillow and holding it up threateningly, "Wanna see who wins?"  
She let out an incredulous laugh, followed by a determined shout, and launched herself upon him.  
"I'll win!" she cried, bringing down a rain of pillows upon his head.  
"No, Momma and Dad, I'LL win!" Nicholas shouted back, and jumped right into the fray.  
"Not a chance, Nick-Bit!" Spike yelled from under a mountain of cushions, just before he leapt out and attacked Buffy and Nicholas with the most unquenchable amount of happiness in his heart that he had ever felt. 


	20. Surreal

FOR BETTER FORMAT READ AT WWW.SPUFFYARCHIVES.COM  
Its not an Alantie piece of fiction until its got some surreal reflection and poetic description! (read my earlier stuff) This chapter is it. If you don't dig that stuff, it can pretty much be skipped, since its short, kinda confusing, and not really necessary to the plot. Inspired by the song 'Grey Matter' by Jewel, a deliciously mournful song that doesn't really pertain to this story except for the select lyrics I have chosen for this chapter. Oh, and the description of Spike's eyes is my own personal opinion of James Marsters' eyes. At least, its what I thought when I saw him. Hope it lives up to expectations. Enjoy.   
  
This chapter is dedicated to Hilary/Numba1 for being so wonderfully encouraging and enthusiastic, as well as being one of my first fans back when I first started writing Mental Imagery in the Bronze. A toast to the good old days...  
  
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The doors were locked. The lights were off. Nicholas was asleep in his bed, and Spike had gone to his own room.  
The moonlight created beautiful patterns of blue light that beamed so quietly through the front windows of the house. Buffy basked in them, soaked up the tendrils of night and silver that harbored the mysterious, and allowed all thought to soar into surreal nothingness. She breathed in and out, concentrating on the feel of the air in her lungs, and the rise and fall of her chest under the satiny slip of nightgown that hung on her body.   
Her reflection in the window didn't look like her. It looked like some kind of immortal goddess, with high, elegant cheekbones and wise eyebrows. But that wasn't her.  
Buffy wasn't elegant, nor was she wise. Not when...  
Heads, I win.   
Tails, I'm lost.  
Love equals pain.  
I am drifting  
without an anchor...  
Life belonged to her. With its colors, events, and laughter. She had power, but not the confidence. Not when HE was concerned.  
He. Him. Spike. William.  
The image of his breathtaking eyes flashed through her mind. They were about as blue as the moonlight, but less so. Almost white with fire and emotion and meaning and passion. So pale that it caused even the harshest person to gasp. And they caused her to gasp. More than once.  
Damn him, for still holding her entire being within those eyes.  
I hate you.  
I love you.  
Leave.  
Don't go away.  
The future now stretched before her in the most untouchable way. Spike was here. For now. But who's to say he'd be here tomorrow?  
Love. What a strange idea, strange feeling, strange intoxication. Love only brought a few people to mind: her mother, Willow, Giles....Nicholas.   
Her son was the product of a cold Love, one that deserved NOTHING. Buffy didn't think that the pureness of Nicholas should be tainted by the mutant formation of Love she shared with Spike. Funny how she never thought of him as dirty for being an illegitimate child. And now. But now. Did he need his father....?  
A scrape against the silence  
a knife against a plate  
makes the sound of   
...need   
...on   
...hate  
Buffy blinked her wide doe eyes and turned away from the world that stared unrealistically back at her from the window. Climbing the stairs with the saddened thoughts of insomnia, she focused on the door in front of her. The door to the guest room.  
She approached it when her feet reached the second floor, the hardwood floor cooling her from the bottom up. Her hand stretched out for the doorknob, fingers looking like claws in the dim light.  
The door opened before her fingers could touch the metal knob.   
Spike stood before her, looking down at her with eyes so full of midnight fire it made her move back, until she stood on the top step, hoping that the distance would lessen the effect of his stare.  
It didn't.   
The shadows made his face look sharper than usual, their darkness warring with the alabaster of his noble nose, sharp jaw, and high forehead. His black curls and white tips almost looked blue in the strange light. His shirt was off, the Michelangelo perfection of his torso looking more unrealistic than ever as Buffy let her eyes drift over him. He was staring at her too, at her curves covered with the milky fabric that bent the moonlight as she shifted. His eyes traveled up the curve of her throat, along her delicate jaw, and the round shell of her ear. She bit her lip and clasped her hands in front of her, as if she were submitting to his gaze that almost caressed physically. Their eyes stopped their gentle lustful searching and met again.  
  
No words were spoken. Connection between them bright with the effects of insomnia, those tortured emotions that communicate with the moon and Change Everything.  
Spike watched Buffy turn away, and close the door of her room firmly behind her.  
And he returned to his room as well. 


	21. Pirate

FOR BETTER FORMAT READ AT WWW.SPUFFYARCHIVES.COM!  
Back into the regular swing of things, folks! Thanks for excusing the surreal and confusing detour that was Chapter 20. This chapter has a tribute to Kantayra and her creative genius in it. Hope she doesn't mind. --blush-- I'm a big fan.  
  
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The 10 AM sunlight soaked the dusty-tan tiles of the kitchen, warming Buffy's bare feet as she shuffled tiredly to the coffeemaker. It had clicked on at 9 o'clock, its Saturday morning setting. The steam from the vanilla roast caressed and awoke her senses with the beautiful Happy Morning feeling that only coffee can give. She went to pour a generous mug full, and then frowned when the liquid only filled half of the cup. Okay, she knew she made more than a half a cup! Then she glanced and saw two messy table settings on the counter, sloppy bowls of cereal that had apparently been gobbled down, and dishes left for her to clean up. Buffy sighed, and swallowed the several mouthfuls of coffee left, and put her son and...Spike's dishes in the dishwasher. She was about to head upstairs to change her clothes when voices on the veranda caught her attention.  
Spike was sitting on the porch swing, in the dappled sunlight that pierced through the trellis and vine. He held a huge mug of coffee in between his knees while listening intently to Nicholas, who was showing him the Box of Pirate Treasure that he had obviously dragged from his tree house to show his father. Buffy leaned against the doors and watched the two of them talking, their matching black curls blowing gently in the breeze, and their faces holding the same sculpted expressions. Nicholas caught the white satin movement of Buffy in the windows of the french doors and looked up at her curiously. She winked at him before stepping back quietly to leave father and son to bond.  
---  
"THIS rock was found down at the stream behind the Miller's house. See how it sparkles in the sun?" Nicholas asked, his voice taking on all the qualities of an inquisitive child as he held up the rock and twisted it in the light so it shone. Spike took it from him to examine it more closely, to fully understand how it got the status of 'Pirate Treasure'.  
"Do ya ever wish you coulda been a pirate back in the old times, Dad? I do. It would be so cool," Nicholas continued, searching through his box to find something else precious to display.  
"Mm, I don't think I'd make a very good pirate, Nick-Bit," Spike responded, putting the rock back into the rickety old box.  
"Are you kidding! You could be...William the Bloody! Thief and swashbuckling pirate! An' mom could be the swoony girl you capture and then fall in love with!" Nicholas said excitedly, swinging around a stick he used as a sword. Spike bit his lip and stared at his son with a thoughtful expression at the "fall in love" part.  
"Sounds like a good plan, but I don't know if your mum really qualifies as a swoony girl," Spike pointed out, sipping at his coffee.  
"Okay, then she will join you in your adventures. We should write it all down as a story. Skull and Dagger- the tale of William the Bloody and his Love," Nicholas decided, pulling a piece of broken green glass from the box and handing it to Spike.  
"You have an awfully romantic imagination for an 8 year old, Nicholas. Should I be concerned?" Spike asked, turning the glass over in his fingers before handing it back to the boy.  
"Romance is love, right?" Nicholas asked.  
"Right."   
"Well, Gram once talked to me when Mom was gone, an' she said that love was nothing to be silly about, and that she didn't want me to act like all the other little boys my age. And she said that if Momma and you worked things out, it would be the bestest love story ever, so I shouldn't be stupid about it," Nicholas explained, his fingers poking about in his box. Spike watched him lovingly, with amazement, soaking in his boy's mindful words and intelligence.  
"Your Gram is a very wise woman," he stated, "In fact, she was the one who told me where your Mum was so I could find both of you."  
"Is that so?" Buffy asked from the doorway. She had gotten dressed in a tee shirt and jeans and come back downstairs in time to catch Spike's statement.  
Spike looked up at her quickly, surprise and embarrassment all over his handsome face.  
"Um, er, yeah," he stuttered, looking away.   
"I'm gonna have to give her a call and ask her about that. I was planning on calling her today anyway."   
"Pet, you can't tell her I told you, she'll have my head!" Spike cried out, standing up to come towards her. She smiled at him and patted his shoulder in tentative comfort.  
"Don't worry, Spike. Spend time with your son while I speak to my mother. I won't get you in trouble," she assured him and took his empty coffee cup from his hand before moving into the kitchen.   
"Summer's women," he said in a relieved sigh, turning back to look at Nicholas, "Good thing we're Sheffield men."  
--- --- ---  
"Hello, Mother, guess who?" Buffy asked sweetly into the phone.  
"Buffy! Didn't expect to hear from you so soon after my visit!" Joyce's voice filtered over the line that stretched across the country.  
"Yeah, well, I just wanted to call and tell you that I am leaving for England with Giles this afternoon for a while. Nicholas said he was interested in going, and since there is nothing really going on around here, I thought we'd take off for a couple of months," Buffy described cheerfully, biting back a laugh when she heard her mom gasp.  
"No! Buffy, why don't you stick around Philadelphia for a few more weeks!! Um, at least let Nicholas finish his baseball season! Oh and school! And um, didn't you have a big thing going on at the restaurant? It would be irresponsible to leave now, young lady!!!" Joyce panicked. Spike had to find her, and he wouldn't if she left!!  
"Hmm...you sound awfully desperate for me to stay in Philly, Mom," Buffy mused, a smile playing across her face.  
"Well, I know I raised you better than to just up and leave the country for a while," Joyce covered.  
"Which is why you helped me up and leave California," Buffy said pointedly. Joyce's heavy sigh was her response. "And it's okay. I'm not leaving. I just wanted to see if you'd fess up."  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Joyce said innocently.  
"Hmm, so you'd know nothing about a certain British someone, who happens to be the father of my son, showing up at my restaurant?"  
"Nope!" Joyce replied. Buffy frowned.  
"Mo-oom..." she pried.   
"Hey, I didn't tell him anything about your restaurant, I don't know how he found out about that!" Joyce quickly defended herself.  
"Yeah, well, he's here."  
"I'm glad."   
"Me too, even though I don't want to admit it," Buffy said quietly.  
"It was time," Joyce said wisely.  
"Yeah..."  
"How is Nicholas handling it?"  
"The two are inseparable, " Buffy said, smiling into the phone as she turned to stare out the back doors at the two males who were now jumping like maniacs on the trampoline, "and getting along famously. Nicholas is excited, and Spike is in complete awe."  
"That makes sense."  
"Well, Mommy, I had better go. I gotta get these guys some lunch before we head out to Nicholas's little league game. I'll talk to you later."  
"Okay, bye Honey. Give Nicholas a hug and kiss from me."  
"Will do."   
"Oh, and Buffy?" Joyce said before she hung up, "Give that man a second chance. It may surprise you."  
Buffy stared at the phone for a moment after her mother hung up, contemplating her last words.  
Second chance. Does Spike even want me to give him a second chance?  
She looked up to see the two of them chasing each other around the back yard with nerf balls.  
Maybe. 


	22. Wine

FOR BETTER FORMAT READ AT WWW.SPUFFYARCHIVES.COM  
  
Nicholas won his baseball game that afternoon, his small chest puffing up with pride as his father shouted encouragement and compliments from the stands. Buffy was always a wonderful soccer-mom, sitting on the bleachers and wearing all the paraphenilia ever made for little league teams, cheering until she was nearly hoarse. Spike out-did her this time though, even beat her down to the field to embrace his son in a rewarding hug.  
  
"That was great, Nick-Bit!! You hit that ball outta th' park!" he gushed, swinging him around. Nicholas laughed and pulled off his baseball cap.  
  
"I know, wasn't it great? Did ya see how far it flew? Didja? Momma, did you see it?" he asked in a squeal, as Spike plopped him back down again and Buffy jogged up.  
  
"It was awesome, Nicholas! You're the best!!"   
  
Of course, she was surrounded by 20 other sets of parents who were saying the exact same thing to their own sons, but it didn't really matter. Nicholas's face glowed in the setting sun, one arm slung around his father's narrow waist. Buffy beamed at him.  
  
"Nicholas!" A boy shouted as he moved through the crowd, "Nicholas, are you ready to go?"  
  
"Go where?" Spike asked curiously, looking back and forth between his son, Buffy, and the little brunette boy who had emerged next to them.  
  
"My house, to sleep over, remember?" the boy answered, gazing pleadingly up at Buffy, "Ms. Summers, you promised! 'member, last week? My mom called you, an' you said he could come over."  
  
"I r'membered, Billy!" Nicholas assured his friend, "My stuff's in the dugout. I can still go, right, Ma?"   
  
Buffy looked back and forth between the two, her cheeks tinting red. Sure, she remembered now. And sure, she had said yes before. 'Before' being the key-word there, as in, BEFORE Spike came to town. Could she handle being alone with him for a whole night?   
  
But Nicholas's eyes were full and hopeful. She had promised afterall.  
  
"Yeah, sure. If you packed your stuff, you can go ahead and go. I expect a phone call tomorrow at 10 though, so I know picking-up details. Okay, Mister?" she teased, mussing his sweaty black spirals. Nicholas nodded gleefully, and bounced off into the crowd with Billy.   
  
Spike sighed and watched him go, and then followed Buffy quietly to the SUV.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Only the strongest stars pierced through the humid night sky that stretched above the suburbs of Philly, Spike noted as he looked up into the heavens through the trellis. He sat on the wooden rim built around the jacuzzi, feet sloshing noisily in the still water, the steam making beads of moisture cling to his shins and knees. The night was relatively silent, interrupted only by the occasional car speeding passed, or a couple of kids walking by. The forest that loomed up the side of the hill hummed with the whistling of summer crickets. Spike sighed with contentment.  
  
"Are the bugs bothering your moment of meditation?" Buffy asked with a smile from the bright doorway. Spike turned to look at her and grinned back.  
  
"Got a couple of mosquito bites, 's not too bad."  
  
"Want me to light the citronella torches?"   
  
"Sure, but only if you come join me then," Spike said hopefully, patting the seat next to him. Buffy nodded after a moment, and went to grab the matches to light the four tall torches that surrounded the hottub.   
  
"Want something to drink?" she asked when she was finished.  
  
"Wha' do you got?" Spike responded, trying to be as easy-going as possible. For some reason, Buffy looked nervous. And for that same, elusive reason, he was nervous too. Wanker, he called himself.  
  
"Milk, water, orange juice, Coke, Ginger Ale, beer, and some great red wine," she rattled off expertly.  
  
Spike thought for a moment, "Well, if it's so great, 'm gonna have to go with the red wine."  
  
"Thats what I think too. Be right back," she said, and disappeared into the house. Spike leaned back to gaze up into the darkness again, sloshing his feet with even more fevor as he waited. She returned a couple of minutes later, carrying two elegant glasses filled part way with red wine.  
  
" 'S the wine so good you don't want to share much?" Spike asked warily, looking at the small amount of liquid in his glass.  
  
"Well, that," Buffy began, climbing onto the wooden rim beside him, and putting her feet into the hot water, "And the fact that I don't trust the two of us and any reasonable amount of alcohol."  
  
"Not gonna get drunk on red wine, pet," Spike said, tilting his head to give her a look. She ignored him and stared absently at the flickering tongues of fire that leapt above one of the torches.  
  
"I'm not taking any chances," she responded quietly. Then she took a deep breath and snapped herself out of her somber reflection, "So! Speaking of taking chances...tell me why you took some with your artwork. I mean, 9 years ago you were terrified to showcase your stuff. Now it's some of the best selling work at my mom's gallery."  
  
He smiled proudly, and took a sip of the crimson drink. "Yeah, well, thought about it for a while, an' figured I didn't have anything t'lose by tryin'. I called up your mum, an' she said she'd put up a painting of mine under Anonymous. It sold in two days."  
  
"Wow," Buffy said, impressed. "Stuff usually only sells that fast if it's by some famous artist, or it's really cheap."  
  
"Yeah, she started showcasing it under my name an' everything. It was great. For a while," he murmured, tilting back to look upwards again. Buffy looked at him curiously.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"See, love, when you start to become an admired artist, you start to hang out with other admired artists. Or dating them. I began t'date this bird Drusilla. Crazy chit, let me tell you, but as creative as hell. Must 'f made some pact with the devil, that one," he recalled, heaving a deep sigh, "I mistakenly thought she was my muse. Turned out, she was only in it for the money, sex, and popularity she got with our peers in our little group in LA. I got angry, told her to go to hell, an' went back to Sunnydale."  
  
"You kept doing your artwork, though, right? 'Cause Mom kept sending me stuff," Buffy guessed, looking down into her wine and swirling it around the glass.  
  
"Sure did. Stopped doing it as a main thing though. It was startin' to become a job, and not an outlet for inspiration and creative energy. I got a job at Revamp, Inc. instead. Took over for Anya, actually," Spike stated, downing the rest of his share, and putting the glass carefully to the side.  
  
"You work at Revamp?" she asked in surprise.  
  
"Yup, Anya got pregnant with their first girl, Dawn, and Xand asked me to be his right-hand man. 'S been great," he smiled, then stared intently at Buffy's profile as she stared at the torches again, "So, pet, how've you been playing your dating game while balancing your obviously successful career?"  
  
"Don't forget raising my son," Buffy pointed out with a laugh, "No, seriously? I haven't had much of a dating game. I was seeing a couple of guys off and on, but none of them have really worked out. I don't know, I guess I'm not really interested. I'm doing fine on my own."  
  
"You never wanted to get married an' give Nicholas a dad? I mean, considering you weren't gonna tell me about him until he was graduating college," Spike said, trying not to sound bitter.  
  
"Spike..." Buffy began, setting down her glass to look at him seriously. Spike raised his hand to stop her.  
  
"No, Buffy, its okay. I'm alright with it. I know now. I'm glad I thwarted your plans. Now answer my question."  
  
She avoided eye contact, staring down at her feet in the chlorine-saturated water. Spike tilted his head, searching her hesitant face.  
  
"I decided to raise Nicholas on my own, like I told you. And....Riley's words have always been right there..at the front of my mind. 'Not a Long-Haul Girl'. I made sure that all guys I even THOUGHT I could date knew that I wasn't capable of more..." she nearly whispered, then let out a humorless laugh, "I guess its stupid, right? That his break-up excuse continues to play in my conscious, even now, when I am a successful business woman, and mother... But it does," she looked up at him then, and blinked quickly, "Besides, I don't think I wanted Nicholas to have a dad that wasn't his. Despite EVERYTHING, Spike, you are still....you. No one can replace you. Nicholas is YOUR son, not some other one-night-stand guy's."  
  
Spiked looked down at his hands, letting her words sink it. It almost sounded like she was still holding on for him, like she wanted him the same way she wanted him 9 years ago. Could he...?  
  
"That was the reason I was drunk, you know," he said in a rough voice, still watching the torch light clash with the hottub underwater light on his hands.  
  
"What was?"   
  
"I came here to the house when I got into town. Saw Nicholas's stuff back here in the yard. It hit me so hard: you had kids. T' me that translated as you had a husband and family. I went to the bar jus' to get a drink and play pool an' clear my head. But the more I thought about it, " he stopped talking and clenched his teeth, "the more angry it made me. The more it hurt. The more I drank."  
  
He looked up at her. She was staring at him with wide, watery eyes, believing with her whole heart what he said, but not wanting him to have said it. She wished he could suck those words back into his mouth. It had HURT him. It HURT that she might have moved on completely without him. Did that mean he...?  
  
"I think the red wine has had its effect, so I'm gonna head to bed. Goodnight, Spike," she said quickly in a soft voice, grabbed the glasses, and swung her legs over the bench. Spike closed his eyes when he heard the french door swing shut behind her.  
  
Damn it.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
The hand on the clock had just slid past midnight when Buffy sat upright in her gigantic bed with surprise when she heard her bedroom door open. She gasped when Spike strode in, and collapsed onto his knees next to the bed, grabbing her hands, and tugging her towards him. His face was so close to hers, she could feel his breath on her skin. He stared into her soul, his eyes full and expressive in the dark.  
  
"I'm not leaving. Ever again. He's my son, and you are his mother, and I want to be a part of your lives." he whispered fiercely. Her eyes were wide, her gaze dropping from his beseeching gaze to where he held her hands in a desperate grip.  
  
"Spike...I..."  
  
"No, Buffy, shut up. This has nothing to do with the 2 sips of wine I had two hours ago, either, so don't even say it. Listen to me. I want it all. I want you. Xander told me that you are my better half and evil twin all in one package. You're perfect. We're perfect. Give me another chance to prove myself to you, I swear, I can be there for you like you wanted me to be before, all those years ago," he gasped out, features twisting as if he were going to cry.  
  
"You're not making any sense!" she nearly whimpered, tugging at her hands. He held them harder.  
  
"You told me, Buffy-Love, that we could be Great. Remember?" he jerked at her, "I want Great."  
  
Her entire world shattered at his words, and she didn't have the courage to even try to put it back together. Pulling harshly, she managed to remove her hands from his grasp, and rose to a kneeling position in the bed, looking down at him with eyes that had lost their faith in the last shred of strength she had left.  
  
"Get out."  
  
His eyes filled up with tears that shone in the moonlit room, "Buffy..."  
  
"Get out of my room, Spike, now. Please." she begged him, bringing her hands up to her mouth to catch the sob that escaped her lips. "Please, just go!"  
  
Tears rolled off of his sharp cheekbones as he stood and left the room, defeat and brokeness in his posture. Buffy watched him go, hating herself for loving him, and not loving him; wanting him, but telling him to go; needing him, but being too stubborn to admit it. She waited until he closed the door behind him, before she buried her face in her pillows and sobs wracked her body.  
  
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A/N- Don't shoot me! CONTINUE TO TRUST!! Trusting your fanfic author is a gooooood thing! Chant that to yourselves until the next update... 


	23. Let

FOR BETTER FORMAT- READ AT WWW.SPUFFYARCHIVES.COM  
  
This chapter is dedicated to two of my reviewers, Maselle and Kori, who had TOTALLY different opinions of my previous chapters. So, its for Maselle/Sheila, because I KNOW she'll love it ;-) and to Kori- I hope this amends some wrongs done to Spike previously in the story. Enjoy, ladies! And the rest of you readers- you enjoy too!  
  
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Her feet slapped against the hard wood floor as she ran down the dark hallway towards the guest room. She didn't even hesitate outside the door, since he only left her room 5 minutes ago, she knew he'd be awake and thoughtful.   
  
Spike was pacing inside the room's nightime stillness and stopped abruptly with astonishment when a satin-clad Buffy came bursting in.  
  
"I'm sorry, oh my g-god Spike, I'm so so sorry!!" she sobbed, tears making shimmering tracks down her cheeks. Her blonde curls were in disarray, blown back from her flight down the hallway, her fluttering hands reaching out towards him, "I shouldn't have...I m-mean...I want to give you a sec-second chance....p-please give ME a second chance! I hurt you, and took away your son, and...I sh-shouldn't have! But it all...and now...I want Great t-too, but it j-just...oh god, d-do you even know what I'm trying to say?"  
  
Spike stared at her in disbelief for an instant, his eyes still full of tears. The desperate tones of her voice piercing his soul. He strode towards her and pulled her roughly against his chest. She clutched at his ribbed tank-top and cried into his shoulder as he held her tightly.  
  
"Oh Buffy..." he gasped into her hair, "We both fucked up so bad, didn't we?"  
  
She nodded against him. His fingers began to quietly caress her soft exposed skin, and she let them string out her energy with their gentleness. A sigh escaped her open lips, and the strength she used to make her decision after he left her room, run down the hall, and spill her guts out to him, was suddenly gone. He felt her go slack in his arms, and slowly they both sank to the floor.  
  
"You should hate me." she whispered, cradled in his embrace like a child.  
  
"I could never hate you. We were both fools. I ran away, then you ran away. No longer though, Buffy, do you understand me?" he whispered warningly. She pulled away slightly to look up at him, eyes clear and shining.  
  
"Yes. No more. We....we can work this out?" she meant for it to be a statement, but it came out as an uneasy question.  
  
Spike couldn't tear his eyes away from hers, nodding to her timid question before speaking.  
  
"Let me make love to you."  
  
His whispered request was so fevered, so passionate, so full of love that Buffy lost all of her breath as she gazed into his blue windows to his desperate soul. She couldn't even nod.   
  
But somehow Spike knew her answer was yes, and he lifted her body from the floor and carried her down the hallway to her master bedroom, and the great gorgeous expanse that was her 4 poster bed...  
  
UH-OH! THE REST OF THIS CHAPTER IS RATED NC-17. READ THE CONTINUATION AT WWW.SPUFFYARCHIVES.COM 


	24. Clock

FOR BETTER FORMAT, READ AT WWW.SPUFFYARCHIVES.COM  
  
A/N- Remember way back at Chapter 14 when I said I only had 6 more chapters to go? Well, here we are, 10 chapters later, and I'm STILL going strong! And if ya'll don't mind, I'm gonna keep writing until I lose inspiration. Does that sound okay?   
  
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Soft kisses brought Buffy through the morning mist of the waking world. Plush lips pecked at her mouth chastely, then brushed along her jaw, up to her temple, then short open-mouth kisses were set in a row down her forhead and nose to her lips again.  
  
"Mmmm..." she stretched beneath her lover as she smiled, "You are the nicest alarm clock I have ever had."  
  
"You looked so cute, I couldn't help myself," he explained, his hands combing through her shimmering locks of blonde hair. Her eyelashes fluttered open to reveal the diamond perfection of her grey eyes. Spike drew in a sharp breath, "You are so beautiful."  
  
"Remember once when I said that you implying in any way that I was sexy was just icky?" she asked, her fingers dancing up his chest that leaned over her. He nodded. "Yeah, well, forget that. It's not icky AT ALL. So keep it up."  
  
Spike chuckled, his pale blue eyes sparkling as he leaned down to kiss her forehead reverently. "You are so sexy, my Love. You turn me on with little things, you know, like your giggle, or the way your right eye gets smaller than your left when you are being serious and emphasizin' important facts."  
  
"Okay, first off, it is disturbing that you notice that. And secondly, it's disturbing that that turns you on," she said jokingly, her right eye doing the squinting thing. Spike groaned and leaned down and plundered her mouth with his tongue. Moments later they broke apart panting.   
  
"And suddenly, it's not so disturbing anymore," she said between breaths. Spike smirked knowingly and rolled onto his back, wrapping his arms around her slender naked waist and pulling her on top of his chest. Sighing with contentment, Buffy burrowed her nose into his neck.  
  
"It feels so right to have you in my arms. Xander said that he thought that once I found you, then I'd realize that I needed you as more than my best friend. He was..." Spike's strong accent broke off as he reined in his emotions. Something about the idea of just having Buffy as a simple friend caused him to want to vomit, and then go into a corner and bawl his eyes out. To give up on this...peace...that he had holding her naked body to his, their skin sticking together, their breath mingling and smelling of each other. God, it was perfection.   
  
Buffy wiggled deeper into his embrace to comfort him when she heard his voice cut off. She felt him swallow and tighten his grip around her, and she began to suck gently on his earlobe. He hissed in pleasure.  
  
"He was completely correct," she finished for him, whispering it into his ear. He nodded jerkily, tears threatening to spill. Buffy raised her head to look down into his face.   
  
"Hey..." she cooed, running her fingers through his dark curls and white tips, "I'm here now. YOU'RE here now. Its perfect. No regrets."  
  
"No regrets," he responded, smiling up at her flushed face. Their aching and hungry lips were about to meet again when the phone's sharp ring interrupted. Buffy groaned with unsatisfied desire and crawled over to the other side of the bed where the nightstand sat. Spike watched her naked ass sway in the air, trying to resist the urge to reach out and squeeze it, but failing miserably. She turned when his hand gripped one smooth globe, and shot him a seductive glare as she pressed the Talk button with her thumb.  
  
"Hello? . . . Oh, hi honey-bun, how was your sleepover? . . . Yeah...uhuh...when? . . . That sounds good. Remember to tell Mrs. Palmer thank-you for letting you spend the night. . . . Nice try, Mister, but no- I am not going to remind you to thank her when you get home, you are old enough to remember for yourself. . . . Yes, he's still here," her eyes gazed at Spike as she said that. Spike looked down at his hands, "Okay, sweetheart, I'll see you in an hour. Bye."  
  
"He was afraid I left?"  
  
Buffy shook her head adamantly, "No, Spike. Don't think that. He was just...reassuring himself that you were here. He's kinda like his mom in that way," she said quietly, her hand reaching for his. Spike turned his hand over so their fingers could intertwine, and yanked her back to him again.  
  
"So tell me about our little Nicholas. Wha' was he like as a baby?" he asked, holding her close.  
  
"Good. He was a good baby. I mean, he slept the nights, most of the time. Everyone doted on him, since he had the hugest blue eyes. I thought he was going to look just like you at first, especially since his eyes were still blue after 6 months. If a baby has a certain eye color after 6 months, they say that that's the color they will stay. But when he was around 8 months old his eyes started darkening to grey, and now they are the hazel of yours truly. He was always very smart, but sensitive and sympathetic. He loves playing by himself, and writing stories that he never lets me read." Buffy's voice was full of sweet motherly pride as she described her son to his father. "To tell you the truth, he's a lot like you, despite my influence."  
  
Spike chuckled at that, and rolled them over so he was above her. He slid mostly off her body and placed his head on her stomach reverently, worshipping her. "When did you tell him about me?"  
  
"When he was 4 he asked about his dad. I just explained that you were an old friend from California. That seemed to satisfy him at the time. When he was 7, I sat him down and had a heart-to-heart with him. He's been crazy about you since then."  
  
"Really?" Spike's voice was filled with hope.  
  
"Yeah. I told him that you were a bartender, and you played guitar, and our paintings were by you. I told him about how you loved Manchester United, and had an English accent, and you always seemed to wear black. He thought you were so cool." Buffy giggled when Spike licked her bellybutton.  
  
"I AM so cool, pet," he replied with a rakish grin.  
  
"Bastard," she laughed when he growled playfully and nuzzled into her abdomen. Suddenly, Spike looked up at her, his face serious but soft at the same time. She scrunched her eyebrows, "What?"  
  
"Do you think-" he began, then took a deep breath before whispering, "that we may have done it again last night?"  
  
Buffy's face heated up with uncertainty and hope at his question, "Maybe. We'll see in a couple of weeks, right?"  
  
He nodded thoughtfully, setting his chin on her skin to gaze up at her, "I hope we did. I hope number 2 is on his way."  
  
"You do?" she whispered in awe. Spike crawled up her body, suspending himself over her with muscular arms.  
  
"Yes," was all he said, but it took Buffy's breath away. She choked back a sob/laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss, full of emotion that took HIS breath away.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Spike sat at the kitchen table later on that morning, thoughtfully chewing on his bagel while he read the paper. Buffy watched him for a moment before coming over and setting her coffee mug down on the glass surface with a bang. Spike jumped.  
  
"Jesus, Buffy!" he gasped, looking at her with confusion as she sat down across from him, "Way to scare a bloke out of his skin!"  
  
"We need to talk," she stated firmly, cupping her mug in her hands and staring at him seriously.  
  
His eyebrows shot up as he cautiously began to speak, "But I thought no regr-"  
  
"No, no no. Not about that!" she cut him off, shaking her head. "You have to move out."  
  
"Why?" Spike asked, leaning back in his chair and threading his hands behind his head.  
  
"If you and I are gonna turn this relationship into something, then you are going to be sticking around in Philadelphia, correct?"   
  
"Yeah...so why do I have to move out of your place? 'S not like you don't have room for me," he pointed out.  
  
"I know I have plenty of room, but you yourself said 'No lovers moving in together until engagement point'. I think it would be better if you got your own place. Nicholas can go back and forth when he wants, and you and I can date and get this relationship to grow, " Buffy explained.  
  
He leaned forward, his arms dropping to the table, his voice taking on a fiercely soft tone, "Buffy, I said forever. Engagement be damned, I'll marry you tonight if you want to."  
  
She was glad she was sitting down, otherwise she would have melted to the floor at his admission. This was WAY too much for one girl to handle. In the space of 24 hours, he had said more amazing things to her than she had seen, read, or heard of anywhere else.  
  
"Ol' Spike's full o' surprises, eh, pet?" he smiled gently at her stunned expression. She shook herself out of her haze.  
  
"Yeah, very full. Look, what you said...it's a ... lovely thing to say, but its not really realistic. Let's do this right, and not jump so far ahead that we mess up again. We need real commitment, and we are capable of it, I know, but let's just do this the old fashioned way- with the flowers, the kisses, the dinners, the moonlit dances, okay?"  
  
"If thats what you want," he obliged.   
  
"And I want to talk to Nicholas about any...marriage...decisions we make. No secrets from him, it wouldn't be fair," Buffy continued, sipping at her coffee.  
  
"I don't think he'll have a problem with us marrying, Sweetheart. So you want to tell him that we are together when he comes home today?"   
  
"Yeah...telling it as PG as possible," she blushed and giggled. Spike smirked as he stood up and walked behind her chair.  
  
"Better enjoy those PG moments while you still can, because from now on? Your life's gonna be a whole lot more NC-17." his sexy voice was full of promise as he whispered into her ear. His tongue darted out and swept along the pink shell before he turned around and left the room.  
  
"Damn," Buffy sighed with a smile as she felt the coolness on her ear begin to dry. 


	25. Bit

Recognize the name of Nicholas's friend, anyone? Put together his first name in Chapter 22, with his last name in Chapter 24, and what do you get? A gold star goes to the reviewer that puts it together, and tells me what episode and what season he's from! (a metaphorical gold star of course) Reviews are encouraged, by the way. And private e-mail reviews are even better!  
  
A/N- CHECK OUT MY NEW SITE at cruelbenediction.guitar-pick.com/heaven...full of yummy things, like MI, fanfic, and fanfic quotes by other authors.  
  
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Spike sat on the grand staircase, savoring his surroundings and the sunlight streaming in the gigantic window that towered over the foyer. Buffy was blowing dry her hair in her room, singing a song by Michelle Branch, her voice wafting through the creamy, peaceful emptiness of the house. A frozen pizza was cooking in the oven for lunch, the tempting and warm smell mixing with the fresh scent of pinesol and the many potted orchids that Buffy was so fond of.  
  
He peered down into his icy glass of lemonade, contemplating on whatever he did to deserve such a beautiful existence. This house was not his, and yet now it was home. He felt as though half of his soul had always been with Buffy, and he realized that with Nicholas's life, it had. Spike was not whole without his Love and their child.   
  
A mini-van door sliding shut outside shook him out of his thoughts as he heard Nicholas's exuberant voice shouting "Thank you for letting me spend the night, an' for the cookies!" across the yard. Spike stood up and walked down the gleaming wood steps to the front door just as it swung open.  
  
"Dad!!" Nicholas shrieked, instantly dropping his bag and baseball mitt, and jumping into his father's outstretched arms.  
  
"Whoa, careful! Don't want to spill my lemonade all over the floor your mum jus' washed. She'd make me clean it with my tongue." Spike chuckled at the boy's ferocious hug as he carefully lowered him back to the floor.  
  
"Well, if the floor's clean, why does it matter if you have to clean it with your tongue?" Nicholas shot back, putting his small hands on his non-existent hips. Spike's eyebrow rose at the show of wit and gave his son a playful nudge and wink.  
  
"Sharp little mouth o' yours. 'S gonna get you in trouble some day." he scolded, turning around and walking to the kitchen. Nicholas trotted behind him.  
  
"I get it from my dad."   
  
Spike let out a bark of laughter, "That you most certainly do."  
  
"Oh my goodness! It looks like a certain little monster is home!" A female voice's teasing shriek came from the bottom of the staircase. Nicholas turned around and skipped to the foyer to greet his mother, leaving Spike to listen with delight to the sound of Buffy giving the boy a bear hug.   
  
They came back into the kitchen, arms around each other, Buffy having slung the backpack over her son's shoulders as she carried his mitt. "Have fun, muffin?" she asked him, playing with his curls.  
  
"Lots an' lots. Dijyou have fun?" Nicholas asked, once again dumping the bag and sliding onto a barstool to watch his mother work in the kitchen. Buffy stopped and shot a startled and suspicious look at Spike. What did he tell him? Or was that just a childlike innocent question?  
  
"As a matter of fact..." Spike began before Buffy tossed the baseball mitt at his chest. He flinched with mock pain and smirked as her face became rosy with embarrassment.  
  
"Mattera fact, what?" Nicholas pried, clueless, but curious of what was going on between his parents.  
  
"Um.." Buffy began, trying to distract herself by cutting the pizza into wide slices. Then she really was distracted by the honking of a horn, and the sound of 4 loud, unmistakable voices, "Oh no..."  
  
Spike looked at her face that had gone pale, and then looked at the excited face of his son, "What the bleedin' hell is going on?"  
  
"Spike!" she managed to admonish his language before she hurriedly wiped off her hands and ran to the door that led to the garage. It burst open before she could get to it.  
  
"Buffy, darling!" Wesley cried perkily, slinging his arm over Buffy's slender shoulders as he led the way for his cousin, uncle, and uncle's fiancée.  
  
"You must be William, " Fred said in her nasally feminine tone, reaching for Spike's hand and shaking it furiously, "I'm Winifred. Well, Fred. My last name's Giles. Fred Giles, that's me!"  
  
"Giles!" Buffy shrieked indignantly as she shrugged off Wesley's friendly arm, turning to her surrogate father, "What are you doing here!?"  
  
"It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and we brought a delightful picnic lunch to have on that lovely wooded hill of yours. And you hadn't telephoned me to come meet our Nicholas's father, so I decided to invite myself." Giles explained cheerfully.  
  
"Wes! Fred! Giles! Jenny! Dijyou all come jus' to meet my Dad!?" Nicholas asked loudly, running to stand in the midst of all of the talkative adults.  
  
Jenny reached down and mussed his black curls, "Yeah, and to see you, of course Nicholas. Is that okay with you that we want to gawk at your Dad?"  
  
The boy nodded eagerly and moved to wrap his arms around Spike's slender waist, clinging to the material of his white oxford with love, "Guys, this is my Dad, William Sheffield. Mom calls him Spike, so I think you can, too."  
  
Every adult in the room smiled at the charming introduction. Even Spike, whose smile had a tint of embarrassed red with a proud nod. Then they all erupted into their cloud of frenzied voices and motions again.   
  
Wesley tucked his glasses into his front pocket and gathered silverware and paper plates from the cupboard, passing them over the top of Buffy's head to Giles, who handed them to Jenny, who tucked them into the heaping basket that Fred had fetched from the car. Jenny shouted orders to Giles who joked with Nicholas while the boy tugged at Buffy's shirt and asked her questions about the pizza and how she was going to carry it up the hill. Spike just stood in the center, avoiding all of the reaching arms and loud words by just standing still in his case of slight shock. Buffy slid over to him through the hubub and wrapped her arms around his middle, looking up into his face with a knowing smile, reassuring him as her fingers danced up and down his spine. He couldn't resist. His eyes fluttered shut and he lowered his mouth to her willing one.  
  
And of course, the chaos came to a screeching halt. Nicholas was the first to break the silence, and the haze around his kissing parents.  
  
"Mom? Dad?"   
  
"Buffy? William?" Wesley's voice squeaked slightly.  
  
"Buffy? Spike?" Jenny corrected, her wide eyes still trained on the couple.  
  
They were so involved in each other's taste and feel. Had it only been an hour ago that they had kissed last? It felt like eternity. Oh god, how they had missed the heat that sparked between their mouths, or the way their hands molded to each other's body even over clothes. Spike's hands held her head gently, combing into her beautiful blonde hair while her own arms clung tightly to his narrow waist. Heaven.   
  
Nicholas huffed for a minute before reaching up and tugging on his mother's hands. "Mom!!"  
  
Buffy snapped her head back at his urgent voice, then realized that she and her lover had the full and undiluted attention of every man, woman,...and boy-who-happened-to-be-her-8-year-old-son...in the room.  
  
"What the bleedin' hell is going on?" Nicholas demanded, stomping his foot.  
  
"Nicholas!" Buffy scolded, then looked back up at Spike with blame, "William!"  
  
Spike had the decency to blush at his son's obvious use of his own language, "Sorry, pet."  
  
"What the bleedin' hell is going on!?" Giles repeated. Spike chuckled and wrapped his arms back around Buffy's petite form, pulling her to his chest again.  
  
"Me an' Buffy...we're together."  
  
Buffy smiled and buried her head in his shoulder, hiding from the cascade of questions that would inevitably come at that statement.  
  
"Since when!?" Jenny, Giles, Wesley, and Fred all shouted at the same time.  
  
"Since this mornin'," Nicholas answered. They all looked at him, including the previously-hiding Buffy.  
  
"How do you know that?" she asked her son with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Dad smelled like your vanilla shampoo. An' his hair was still kinda wet," the boy responded, shrugging his tiny shoulder. All eyes darted back to Buffy and Spike then.  
  
"Um, yeah..I took a shower in your Mum's room, Nick-Bit." All eyebrows shot up at that, "ALONE, people." Spike corrected, shaking his head at the thoughts he knew went through all of their heads.  
  
"So the two of you are...an item," Fred mused, "That's good, right?"  
  
"Maybe," Giles replied, eyes narrowing, "But why?"  
  
"Giles!" Buffy exclaimed with shock, "Why would you ask something like that?"  
  
Spike lowered his head to the sweet shell of her ear and made a small comforting sound to calm her.   
  
"Well, excuse me, Buffy, but I'm trying to protect you, as I have done since we met. I was the sole person in your life when you gave birth to Nicholas. I watched you raise him with a bit of pain in your heart that his father had rejected you. And now said father is back in your life, claiming to be someone he did not want to be 9 years ago." Giles explained softly, his eyes staring straight into Buffy's eyes, and then into Spike's.  
  
"I'm thankful to you, sir," Spike said seriously, his voice taking on the upper class quality that he usually ignored, "That you were here when I was not. Had I known where she was, and about Nicholas, please rest assure that I would have done everything in my power to be a part of their lives. I have missed Buffy with all of my heart since she left, my feelings for her getting stronger day by day. And now that we have been reunited..." his voice broke off momentarily before he took a big breath, "Mr. Giles, I am in love with her."  
  
Everyone in the wide kitchen was silent for a moment, minds spinning with the force of emotion behind Spike's words.  
  
"And you intend to work at a relationship?" Giles asked, this time his tone much more sympathetic and understanding.  
  
"We do. Together," Spike responded, looking down into Buffy's watery hazel eyes. Her beaming smile was full of encouragement, and his heart leapt with joy at the sight.  
  
"And as for the future...?" the older man trailed off inquisitively, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with a hanky.  
  
"As much as I love you, I don't think that is your business, Giles," Buffy spoke up, turning completely to stare at the group. Then she stooped down and reached out for Nicholas's tee shirt, tugging him towards her. "Hey you. What do you think about all of this?"  
  
Nicholas's hazel eyes looked up at his father and then back down at his mother. He took a deep breath and placed his tiny hand on Buffy's shoulder, "Mom...it's very good."  
  
Buffy grinned at him and rubbed her nose against his in an eskimo kiss, "Ready to have your Dad hanging around all the time, huh?"  
  
Nicholas nodded, "He's my Dad-Bit."  
  
Spike whooped with laughter and dropped down next to the two of them, enfolding them both in a gigantic hug.  
  
"Well, that settles it for now, don't you say? Let's go picnicking!" Jenny said enthusiastically, her eyes bright as she gathered the basket, linked arms with Fred, and led the group to the forest knoll.  
  
--- --- --- ---   
  
The house was silent at midnight. The classifieds lay scattered across the kitchen table, some apartments and condos nearby circled in a sporadic pattern across the pages, phone numbers highlighted. Two empty wine glasses next to an empty can of Coke were on the coffee table in the den. Pillows were in a trail all the way up the staircase, clearly marking the progress of the latest pillow fight.   
  
Spike first went in to his sleeping son's room, admiring the tiny life he created. The boy lay in the sliver of light that poured in from the hallway, one small hand curled up under his chin in a perfect imitation of his mother's sleeping position. The black curls were in a wild frenzy from his tossing and turning before he had finally fallen into the void of slumber. Spike leaned down over him, brushing a lingering kiss across the smooth ebony brow, breathing deep the scent of the young skin.  
  
Next he stood in Buffy's room, eyes following the graceful curves under the silky sheets that he knew intimately. Her face was peaceful, almost happy, as her hair lay in a shimmering fan out on the mattress. Spike reached down and gently smoothed his thumb over her perfectly plush bottom lip before replacing the finger with his mouth. She responded even in her sleep, opening her lips so his tongue could ever so lightly lap at the moisture inside the warm opening. Then he pulled away, kissed her forehead briefly before leaving her room so she could continue to dream her delicious fantasies.  
  
He went to his room, just to use the phone. No way was he gonna sleep alone in a guest bed when he was welcome to sleep in the arms of his beloved. He dialed a number he knew by heart, and smiled when the woman picked up.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi, Mrs. Summers."   
  
"Spike! Hi! How are you?" Joyce asked pleasantly, glad to hear from him.  
  
"Absolutely wonderful. Can't talk long- I got a beautiful woman to go snuggle with, but Joyce?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Thank.You. So. Much. Words cannot express," he almost choked on the words, so full of the most breathless gratitude for the information that she had given him that had finally led him to Buffy.  
  
"You're welcome," Joyce seemed near tears herself, so thankful that they were FINALLY together, "You go snuggle with that mother of your child now, you hear?"  
  
Spike grinned, "Yes ma'am. Have a good night."  
  
"Goodnight, William."  
  
Spike hung up, pulled off his shirt and jeans, and tugged on a soft pair of loose fitting sweatpants. And with complete silence, he padded down the hallway to the bed of his Love. 


	26. Successful

Ch. 26 - Successful   
  
The monday following was one of those random holidays where schools gave the children the day off. Nicholas was filled to the brim with excitement that he could spend the whole day at home with his father while his mother had to run errands and go to the resteraunt for the inevitable business meetings. By noon they had managed to have four games of basketball, two games of soccer, a water gun fight, a mock-martial arts fight on the trampoline, and a baseball extravaganza where Spike had to hoist Nicholas up onto the garage roof six times to retrieve the ball. The two rambuncious boys also had discussed plans to make the tree house bigger, where to put the olympic-sized pool they both wanted, and how to build a laser tag dome in the woods without Mom ever finding out.   
  
In short, it had been a successful morning for the Sheffield men.   
  
---   
  
Buffy had finished up the things on her To Do list a little after noon, coming home to a house she was sure would be covered with areas that should be declared national disasters. She held an expecting cringe on her face as she came through the door from the garage to encounter....   
  
Silence.   
  
Okay, now her curiousity was piqued, and her dread was multiplied. A quiet Nicholas meant either trouble or beautiful behavior...but a quiet Spike? Now that was the end of the world.   
  
"Helloooo?" she half-sang out into the house from the kitchen, setting her bags on the counter and moving into the foyer to call up the sweeping staircase, "Spike? Nicholas?"   
  
"Go run more errands!" her son's voice shot from the second floor.   
  
"We're not home!" Spike's followed. Buffy grinned and started up the steps.   
  
"I know that trick, William Sheffield!" she teased, "And I'm coming up!"   
  
"No mom, NO!" Nicholas's desperate tones pleaded from...a bathroom. HER bathroom. Buffy quickened her pace.   
  
"What are you guys doing in my bathroom?" she asked, entering her bedroom and striding for the slightly ajar master bathroom door.   
  
"Nothin'!" they said in unison, someone pushed the door shut with a firm bang. Buffy pounded her fist against it.   
  
"You better let me in, or I'll ground you both!" she threatened through the amused grin glimmering on her lips.   
  
"Can't ground me, pet. 'm older than you!" Spike taunted back, his voice directly on the other side of the wooden panels.   
  
"I'll cut you off from your new favorite activity..." she let the sentence dangle in the air. A gasp was her reward.   
  
"You wouldn't..." he denied in horror.   
  
"Just try me, " Buffy dared him, barely containing her giggles. She heard Spike and Nicholas discuss her entry fee in low voices, the delicious male murmering causing her to fill up with contentment.   
  
"Okay, ducks, we'll open the door...but you can't get all bug shaggin' crazy, alright?"   
  
"Uh, oh...I don't think I like the sound of th-" she stopped abruptly when the door opened swiftly to reveal one completely peroxided Spike, and one black-curls-with-shockingly-white-tips Nicholas.   
  
"Hey Momma! What do you think?" Nicholas asked perkily.   
  
Buffy's eyes darted back and forth between her lover and son, "Oh my god!"   
  
"Brings back memories, eh, Love?" Spike asked almost bashfully, running a hand through his bright white curls.   
  
"Oh my god!"   
  
"An' look, see? He did mine like his used to be!! Innit cool?" Nicholas excitedly pointed to his hair before turning back to stare at himself in the mirror.   
  
"Oh my god!"   
  
"Don't worry though, we didn't do it in here. We did it out back. Jus' came in here to use all your girly hair stylin' rot. I mean, I 'ave some of my own, but we really wanted to play with it all, get it all gelled up an' handsome. We look right smashing, don't we?" Spike proudly bounced on his heels, putting an arm around the dumbstruck Buffy.   
  
Just then the doorbell rang through the house, shaking Buffy out of her state of shock when Nicholas rushed passed and downstairs, shouting about how he hoped it was one of his friends so he could show them his new look.   
  
"See, I only did a little of his. He wanted all of it bleached, but I didn't think you'd like that," Spike continued to explain, looking down into the finally-focused eyes of the small woman.   
  
Suddenly he found himself pinned against the bathroom wall, her soft body melding against his hard one, her lips crushed against his, tongue demanding entrance. Spike moaned and opened his mouth to give her eager tongue access, loving the way she plundered so desperately. Her hands wandered erraticly, up and down his torso. He let his own hands drift down her back, cupping her ass and pulling her more firmly against his rapidly growing erection. When she tore her mouth away, both of their chests were heaving with arousal and need for breath.   
  
"Wha' was that for?" Spike gasped, staring down at her with his lust-clouded blue eyes. Her spindally fingers surged into his bright blonde curls, twining their softness around her fingers so she could admire the vibrant color against her skin.   
  
"Your hair," she said simply, eyes still on his bright locks, "It just...turned me on. I had to kiss you. I've always loved your hair like this. I mean, I love the black too, because hey, natural color, plus Nicholas's color...but the bleach...god, its so hot!"   
  
Spike smirked proudly at her admission, especially tickled pink by the way she writhed in want as she spoke with those airy, aroused tones.   
  
"Jus' you wait until tonight, my sweet," he promised, gently grabbing one of her wrists and pulling it down to his face so he could kiss each fingertip, " 'S gonna be so good..."   
  
"Mm..can't wait.." she purred, leaning her head into the crook of his neck so she could nibble at the delectable skin of his throat.   
  
"MOOOOOOM!!! Its for YOU!!!" Nicholas shouted, stomping up the steps. Buffy pulled away from Spike with a slight blush, wiped her lips with the back of her hand, and hurried to meet her son in the hallway.   
  
"Sorry, hun, what?"   
  
"I've been callin' you for the past four hundred minutes! Penn is here to see you," the boy explained, waving his hand towards the front door vaguely, his face twisted in an expression of distaste.   
  
"Penn? He's here? Why?" Buffy asked, eyes nervously glancing over the railing to look down into the foyer. Sure enough, the handsome, glasses-wearing blonde business man and...psycho... was standing patiently in the tiled entrance hall.   
  
"I dunno. Came to see you. I thought you told him to go away last time?" he accused, looking up at his mom.   
  
"I did." Buffy said with a frown, "Baby, why don't you find your dad and the two of you play with legos in your room, okay?"   
  
Nicholas nodded and went to find Spike as Buffy slowly walked down the hardwood steps to greet her unwelcome guest.   
  
"Buffy!" Penn cried sweetly, opening his arms as if expecting a hug.   
  
"Penn," Buffy nodded cordially, clenching her teeth to keep back the more angry words that were spinning through her head. She crossed her arms over her chest, "What can I do for you?"   
  
"Oh, I do so love that question from your sweet lips," he laughed with mock dramatics, "I need a favor."   
  
"What else is new? That's all you ever bother me for," she said coldly.   
  
"Now now now," Penn scolded, shaking his head, "We both know that's a lie."   
  
It was if the mask had been abruptly torn from his face. Gone was the smiling man with sparkling eyes. In its place was the cold hearted, manipulative, insane monster who Buffy knew very intimately. She cursed the day she met him.   
  
"What do you want?" her voice was low, her body completely still as he approached her, stepping over the line of personal space. She couldn't do a fucking thing about it.   
  
"Deposit five thousand dollars into our account by friday," he ordered, whispering in her ear.   
  
"What's it for this time?" she dared to ask, closing her eyes in revulsion at the smell of his expensive cologne. Sure, it smelled wonderful to a normal person, but to Buffy the scent brought back horrible memories.   
  
"A guy in New York. I promise you, it's nothing illegal."   
  
"Like this isn't?" she snapped, her eyes fluttering open to stare into his icey ones. He chuckled and ran one finger down her face.   
  
"Mm, true. Blackmail never is. But its the way of this wonderful world!" he winked at her and set a harsh kiss on her forehead before leaving her alone in her foyer. She sighed when she heard his Z3 rev and pull away from the curb. Delicately she sniffed at the collar of her shirt. God, she needed a shower. She had Essence of Penn on her. With that, she jogged to her bathroom before she could be stopped or questioned by her son or his father.   
  
--- --- --- ---   
  
Buffy let out a deep, relieved breath at the gentle pounding of the hot water on her back. It rushed down the back of her body, while rivlets of warm water spidered around the front of her torso, around her neck, and dripped from the curls between her thighs. Relaxation, check. Penn smell gone, check.   
  
She turned to embrace the cascade, her face tilted up to accept the burning spray so that it washed and cleansed her entire being. The steam built up around her, enfolding her body in a moist blanket of purity. She was so caught up in the tranquility of her shower, she didn't notice the entrance of another person until two arms slid around her waist, and a solid male body pressed up against her back.   
  
"Mind if I join you, cutie?" Spike's low baritone filled her mind, almost lulling her to sleep. Her body sagged back into his, and he was very happy to be of service and hold her upright.   
  
....This is where Spike and Buffy do what they do best in what I consider my most well-written smut scene so far. Go read it at:  
  
http://cruelbenediction.guitar-pick.com/heaven/index.php?x=wat26.php 


	27. Bedroom

Chapter 27 - Bedroom  
  
A/N- Back and better than ever. Here's that update!! Hope you all enjoy. Check out my Spuffy fanfic site http://cruelbenediction.guitar-pick.com/heaven/ for the first updates of my stories (including non-AU's), links to my livejournal, and other awesome stuff like fanfic quotes, fanart, and a links to other cool sites.  
  
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The sunlight flickering through the lace curtains teased Buffy awake. She rolled over in her soft sheets, reaching for the man who had been laying there, just as naked as she. But he wasn't there. Frowning, Buffy sat up, holding the sheet to her chest as she cocked her head to listen for sounds of her lover. Then the rattling of glass and silverware reached her ears and she gasped with delight when Spike pushed open the bedroom door with his toe and entered, balancing a breakfast tray.  
  
"Oh Spike, hunny, this is great!" she squealed, tucking the sheet under her arms so she could clap gleefully.  
  
"I know! I'm the best boyfriend ever," Spike laughed boastfully. He carefully set the tray down on its legs on the mattress before leaning forward to lay a pecks on Buffy's smiling lips.  
  
"Mmm, I love that word describing you," she murmered between kisses.  
  
"You could use a word a little more dear, Buffy-Love," he reminded shyly as he stretched out beside her. She sighed, reaching for the silverware.  
  
"It's not time for that yet, " she said in an apologetic voice, "I love you for waiting," she offered, and then speared a piece of pineapple with her fork and held it in front of his face as a peace offering.  
  
"I love you for loving me for waiting for your official love," he grumbled, leaning forward and biting the fruit off the fork, chewing with a frown, "I just realized how much that did not make sense."  
  
"Don't talk with your mouth full, baby," Buffy scolded absently. Spike turned his head to glare at her until she gasped with realization, her hand flying to cover her mouth.  
  
"Oh, god, Spike, sweetie! I'm sorry! Once a mom, always a mom."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Well 'm not your soddin' kid, Summers," he growled, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.  
  
"No, but you act like one, and you're responsible for mine," she shot back with a triumphant grin, spearing another piece of pineapple and offering it to him.  
  
"Don' want it."  
  
"Aww, come on, Willie. Pineapple's your favorite," she teased, waving the fork back and forth under his nose.  
  
"You're being mean to me today- won't marry me right away, chastizin' me as if I were an 8 year old, an' calling me 'Willie'. I don't want anything from you," he grumbled, his bottom lip pushing out even further. Buffy stared at him with twinkling eyes before dropping her fork on the tray, and grabbing a hold of the top of her sheet.  
  
"You sure you don't want anything from me?" she asked innocently, pulling off the sheet to reveal her naked body.  
  
Spike swallowed with lust when he turned his head and drank in the sight of her sunkissed skin and satin smooth curves. His pout turned into a wicked smirk.  
  
"It's not a question of what I want from you, its about what I'm gonna DO to you."   
  
And with that he was upon her, and their giggles, sighs, and moans filled the room.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
The day wanned on to afternoon, hot and bright. The kind of afternoon that fills every nook and cranny with its warmth and light.   
  
Spike sat out on the back veranda on a chaise lounge, clicking away on online designs to be e-mailed to Revamp, Inc all the way back home in California. Buffy had returned from Rustic Bend earlier in the day with a determined look on her face, and instantly retreated to her office to work through the piles of paperwork, stopping only occasionally to grab a soda from the fridge or give Spike a quick kiss on his cheek as she walked passed. Nicholas came darting in and out sometimes, followed by the gang of neighborhood boys and sometimes alone, doing a mission:impossible to grab snacks from the pantry for the rest of the hungry pirates.  
  
It was a deliciously normal suburban summer day, and Buffy found herself staring out the window more than once, daydreaming about REALITY, and not that which wasn't.  
  
The sound of the slamming front door startled her out of her thoughts. Footsteps went rippling over the floorboards of the staircase. Sounded like Nicholas was home for good. She heard him banging and shuffling around in his room above her, and scrunched her eyebrows together with curiousity. What in the world was that boy up to?  
  
Buffy crept out of her office and moved silently up the stairs, the shuffling and whispering still coming from Nicholas's room. Tiptoing along the wall, she turned and peered around the corner through the doorway.  
  
And there was Nicholas, desperately trying to keep the cardbaord flaps of a box down, while something kept trying to push them up.  
  
"Ahem..." Buffy interrupted, stepping inoto the room and closing the door behind her. Nicholas whirrled around, panic on his face as he tried to discretely push the box under his bed.  
  
"Nothing, mom!" he pleaded his innocence.  
  
"You've been saying that to me a lot lately. I think your father's a bad influence," she mused. Nicholas pushed at the large box a bit more desperately, "That isn't going to fit under there, Nicholas," she pointed to the box.  
  
The flaps wiggled again, and this time, Buffy got a glance of a shiney black nose.  
  
"Oh, well, um, yes it is!" Nicholas argued back, pushing even harder. Just then, the box burst open, and out bounded a an energetic puppy. Nicholas lunged forward and grabbed it, a giggle escaping when it began to lick his face with its soft, wet tongue.  
  
Buffy sighed and knelt down next to them, "So, where'd he come from?"  
  
"It's a she, and I named her Scout. The Rellison's gave her to me," he explained, handing the adorable Rottweiler-shaped ball of fur to his mom. He was determined that Scout could win her heart.  
  
"You would think that Pam would have called and warned me about a litter of puppies," Buffy sighed drolly, petting the animal.  
  
"I told her you wanted a dog," Nicholas bent his head with shame as he spoke.  
  
"That was lying, young man. I don't want a dog," she said sternly, looking at her son, then looking down at Scout.  
  
"I know. I'm sorry," he apologized in a low voice.  
  
"But..." she drawled, smiling when Nicholas's head shot up in gleeful expectation, "I kinda want *this* dog."  
  
"Really?" he asked breathlessly, face full of light.  
  
"Yeah. Welcome to your new family, Scout," Buffy giggled, holding the puppy above her head and doing 'Awwww, how adorable' kissy faces, "Make sure its alright with your dad though."  
  
"Why?" Nicholas cocked his head with curiousity, "He's not gonna live here."  
  
"Well, I kinda wanted to talk to you about that..."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"Yeah, we'll meet you there tomorrow night. Don't forget, I want the Australian white wine. Australian, Giles. No, the Italian is not better. Why do you always argue with me when it comes to this? Hey, don't mock. Wait, do you even know where Garden Seat Parish is? Yeah, its ab-"  
  
"Hey sweetness," Spike greeted as he came through the bedroom door, tossing his car keys on the nightstand next to the bed, "Have a good evening?"  
  
Buffy abruptly yanked the telephone away from her ear when Spike entered, then realized how suspicious that looked and quickly replaced it. He turned to look at her curiously when he didn't get a response.  
  
"Whats the matter with you?"   
  
"Nothing!" she squeaked, fingers clutching and unclutching around the reciever, "Um, just talking to Giles."  
  
Spike's eyebrows furrowed, "Yeah, you..do...that. Co-owner, an' all that rot. Why so..."  
  
"Jumpy? No reason!" she assured him. Her eyes darted around the room, "So, you're back from.."  
  
"The post office..." he supplied, suspicously looking around the room, "Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"Yup! Peachy!" she smiled wide.  
  
"Mm..okay," he still didn't look entirely convinced but disappeared into the bathroom. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"I'm so glad we're doing this tomorrow, Giles, I would blow it if the time were any longer than 24 hours. Yeah...yeah...okay, see ya then. Bye."  
  
She hung up the phone and sat quietly on the bed staring at it, relishing the feel of her heart beating furiously in her chest. She was going to do it. She was. And he'd be so surprised. And they were both going to be so happy.   
  
The bathroom door opened again and he emerged in his boxers, tossing his clothes onto the dirty pile in Buffy's closet, as if this were his home. It was so natural and perfect. A smile crept across her face.  
  
"What?" he stopped like a deer in headlights with suspicion again, "What are you smiling at?"  
  
"You, doing the daily thing, like this is where you live. It's cute...considering you're not supposed to be living here," she gave him a look.  
  
"'m still searching for a place!" he said defensively, dropping down heavily onto the mattress, causing Buffy to bounce slightly.  
  
"Surrrrre you are," she drawled with amusement, laying back into the pillows next to him. He watched her with eyes of adoration, noticing the way the golden satin of her negligee bended the light of the lamps.  
  
"I am! You jus' don't realize it, because you like me livin' here and taking...advantage.." he purred, running one hand down her belly.  
  
"No, I realize it. I just give you a break because I know how tough it is to find a good place to live in this city," she explained, putting her hand over his to stop the seduction. She wanted to talk.  
  
"Yeah, 'm guessing you an' Nicholas didn't move into good ol' Dogwood Avenue until the big bucks came in. Where were you before then? I heard something about a dingy apartment before, didn't I?" he sat up slightly, and turned his hand so their fingers could intertwine.  
  
"Yeah..." her voice turned soft and sensitive again, "That would be the Penn-Era of my life."  
  
"Oh yes, the git. Ready to spill the story?" Spike settled firmly into the pillows, ready to listen to this tale that seemed to haunt her. He squeezed her hand to signal her to speak. She took a big breath, and began.  
  
"After I called you that one time, and then decided I wouldn't call again, I found out that the owner of my apartment complex had died and his creepy son was taking over. That first guy, he was straight-laced and everything, but he was a good landlord, but his son was just...well, corrupt is the perfect word. He raised the rent to an impossible level, so, I went to him."  
  
Spike sucked in a breath, "I'm really not going to like this story, am I?"  
  
Buffy shook her head.  
  
"I was desperate. I am ashamed to say that I pleaded like a desperate, single-mother, poor waitress should. I was practically on my hands and knees, asking for him to give me a break. He gave me a break alright: he asked me out. At first it was...harmless dating...then I really realized what a controlling pig he was. I tried to break up with him, but then he showed me the records- my rent was practically nothing, and he was paying for my groceries, and anything Nicholas needed..all because he "enjoyed me" so much. Thats when we made this deal....He promised to continue helping me out, if I promised to.... be at his beck and call."  
  
The silence of her pause filled the room with thunder.   
  
"You were his whore," Spike whispered. Buffy's downturned eyes slid up to stare at him, watching his jawline clench with anger.  
  
"Yes," her voice was raspy and faint as her fingers tightened around his..  
  
"Continue," he ordered.  
  
"Spike, you gotta understand...it was horrible of me, yes, but-"  
  
"It's okay, Buffy. Please continue," this time his voice was more gentle. She nodded.  
  
"Well, that, like, broke me inside. Soon Penn ran my life practically. He combined our bank accounts, helped me pay for Rustic Bend, paid for everything Nicholas ever needed. Finally, right before my mom came to visit the first time, I convinced Penn seperation was a good idea: he could keep running his little financial empire and keep our bank account, and I would go off and run my resteraunt and raise my son. He used to drop by once or twice a month for a good time, but then he got too busy. Little empire not so little anymore.  
  
"But now...its financial blackmail, technically. Especially with the amazing success of Rustic Bend. I have to keep putting money into the account for him to use for whatever he uses it for. I mean, I've paid my dues, literally. I'm not under his thumb anymore...but if I don't donate to his cause, then he can bring me to financial ruin in a heartbeat. And he's got all kinds of legal issues he can bring up too. Its not like I can sue him, or tell the cops about the blackmail. I willingly stepped into a situation that would eventually lead here...even though I knew it would."  
  
Spike's eyes were full of astonishment and despair.   
  
"There's gotta be something-"  
  
"There's not," she interrupted firmly, "Its okay. He only calls or comes by when he needs the instant cash. Hence the reason he was here yesterday. Nicholas hates him," she smiled bitterly.  
  
"Gotta agree with the Nick-bit there," he growled, angry energy setting into his bones. Buffy watched him slide off the bed and pace the room, "God, Buffy, this is horrible! I can't believe that you-...I mean..that this happened. That you allowed your life to get...bloody consumed by this guy!"  
  
Buffy rose from the bed and strode over to him, placing her tiny hands on his shoulders to stop his movement, "Look, Spike, it happened. In the past. I can't do anything to change it. All I do is respond when I must. Other than that, Penn has no part of my life anymore."  
  
"You gave yourself to him," he muttered with hurt, eyes staring at the carpet. Buffy ducked her head to catch his eye.  
  
"Yeah...and you gave yourself to Drusilla."  
  
Spike's face glimmered with respect that she threw that back at him, "Yeah..." he whispered, hand coming up to cup her cheek.  
  
"But now we have each other. The time for giving is WAY over. I conquered you," she said with a teasing grin.  
  
"'m gonna find a way to fix this financial shit," he promised, wrapping his arms around the soft little body of his best friend.  
  
"I was hoping you'd say that...but I wasn't going to push for anything," she sighed, breathing in the smell of his bare chest.  
  
"Let's go to bed." he whispered, scooped her up and buried himself in her embrace and blankets.  
  
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Psst- go to my Spuffy fic archive site: http://cruelbenediction.guitar-pick.com/heaven/...and remember- the tagboard isn't just there for show, people. Let me know how much you hate Penn...or Nehemiah in 'The Final'.. 


	28. Champagne

Ch. 28- Champagne  
  
A/N- Enjoy the magical, delicious, fluffy sweetness, gentle readers. Romance galore.  
  
A/N Part 2- http://cruelbenediction.guitar-pick.com/heaven/ (home of Alantie's fiction, mailing list, plus links to other cool sites, her live journal, and personal site...)  
  
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"Ack, Spike! Get out! Go get in your car, drive around the block and pick me up!!!" Buffy squealed, slamming the bathroom door shut and leaning against it as she giggled.  
  
"Bu' I want to see what you're wearing!" Spike protested, his voice muffled through the heavy door as he jiggled the handle. Buffy laughed again, and turned the lock. Spike groaned and gave up. "Cold-hearted bitch."  
  
"Immature bastard," she countered, turning back to the mirror to finish her make-up, "And I'm not even dressed yet, so there's no outfit to see."  
  
"Even better reason for me to get into there with you!" Spike whined, once again jiggling the doorknob.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes at her lover's one track mind, "I'm not naked, I'm just not dressed yet."  
  
"Does that mean you're wearin' one of those sexy corset things?" he asked hopefully from the other side of the door.  
  
"Come into the 21st century, honey. I'm wearing a camisole and slip. Now GO get into the car, and pick me up, like a REAL date!!" she ordered, leaning over the sink towards the mirror to apply her lipstick.  
  
"Fine, fine. I'll be back in 15 minutes- gotta go get gas first."  
  
"Okay, now bye!" she shouted, glancing back towards the door and listening for sounds of him leaving. Soon she heard the door to the garage slam shut, and knew that he had finally gone to the car.  
  
Tonight was the night. Everything was going to change. She had Giles taking care of Nicholas, a special dinner secured for her and Spike at the beautiful Garden Spot Cafe, next to the gorgeous Garden Spot Parish. Spike was dressed in a snappy suit, and was going to pick her up like a real first date should. And she was positively glowing.   
  
Buffy excitedly darted out of the bathroom to her closet and pulled out the carefully concealed outfit she had bought especially for this night and put it on. The floor-length white skirt was slender, but girly with lace frills, while the pale-pink peasant top was summery and gauzy, and off-shoulder to add a touch of elegance. She examined herself in the full mirror with satisfaction, ran her hand through her long blonde waves, and blew a kiss to her reflection before flying down the steps to meet her date.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Spike could barely take his eyes off her. Which made it hard to drive, hard to follow the hostess to their reserved dinner spot, and hard to look at the menu. Buffy smiled with amusement when she noticed his predicament, a smug smile that said she knew that her outfit would do that to him. He just wanted to take her out into that field, lit by the setting sun, and make love to her right in the grass, kissing every inch of the skin exposed as he removed her beautiful feminine garments and-  
  
"Spike?" she interrupted his thoughts with a wave of her hand in front of his face, "The waiter wants to know what you want for an appetizer.."  
  
He blinked twice and then looked up at the man in the tuxedo, who blinked back at him.  
  
"Um...nothing, thank-you."  
  
"Very well, then, Sir," the waiter replied politely and left the table.  
  
"So, whatcha thinkin' about?" Buffy teased knowingly, shifting coyly on her seat.  
  
"Want to say 'sod it' with first date rules an' go for a hike in that field, Love?" Spike asked, gesturing to the peaceful Pennsylvanian countryside surrounding them.  
  
"Nope," she replied with a grin, popping the 'p', "I came here because this place has the best Creme Brulee EVER, and I kinda want to stay through desert."  
  
Spike sighed with disappointment, before he caught the sparkle in her eye, "What's that, then?" he asked curiously.  
  
"What's what?" Buffy's face was all innocence.  
  
"You're all sparkley and grinning," he described, his own face starting to reflect her joy.  
  
"I love you so much," she replied simply, shrugging her bare shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, well, I love you more," he challenged with a teasing smile. Buffy's hand crept across the table and took his.  
  
"You have no idea how wrong you are. No one could love anybody more than I love you."  
  
"Wanna make a bet?" Spike shot back, getting off his chair and falling to his knee...until he realized that Buffy was getting out of her chair as well.  
  
"Wait!" they both cried in unison. Their eyes widened.  
  
"Sit back down!" they demanded again, in unison. The people around them began to stare.  
  
"Look, Buffy, please sit back in your seat, 'm trying to do somethin' here..." Spike pleaded, grabbing her shoulders and steering her back towards her chair.  
  
"No, damn it! This is my date, so let me do what I'm trying to do!" Buffy said stubbornly, pushing him back towards his side of the table. He lost his balance and fell onto his chair.  
  
"Good, now, stay there," she mumbled, reaching for her purse and pulling out a tiny black velvet box before dropping to her knees next to Spike's seat. She took a deep breath and looked up into his eyes with her watery ones, "Spike. You've been my best friend for forever....and in my heart longer than that. Because of pain and alcohol...you gave me the one thing I treasure most in this world- my beautiful son. And while I probably chose the wrong path by keeping him from you, now I know that we both couldn't live without you ever again. Our love doesn't need a ring, or a ceremony, or an official piece of paper to make it real, but I want the world to know that you are mine. I want to be your wife. I want you to be my husband. Will you marry me, William?"  
  
Her shaking hands opened the box to reveal a simple silver band.  
  
"I know it isn't anything extremely special, bu-" she was cut off by his hand cupping her face, thumb over her lips.  
  
"It is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me," he whispered, sliding off his chairs to his knees beside her, gazing into her eyes like they held everything.  
  
"Buffy, I want to be HIM. I want to be better than any guy you've had a crush on. I want to be better than any guy you've gotten drunk over. I want to be better than the man who said we couldn't be more after that night. I even want to be better than the man who came searching for you after nine years. You can make me a better man, just by smiling at me. I want to see your smile for the rest of my life. Yes, I'll be your husband. You're already the mother of my son, please be my wife, too..."  
  
Buffy let out a joyful sob and threw herself in his arms. The two of them created quite the spectacle, kneeling on the cafe floor, arms around each other, both crying with the intenisty of their love and newfound commitment. Spike pulled away with a laugh.  
  
"Let me give the ring to you, Sweetheart!" he opened the box in his pocked and presented it to her, "Can I put it on you?"  
  
She nodded eagerly, and watched as he slid the diamond-encrusted platinum ring onto her finger.  
  
"Let me put yours on, too." she whispered, taking the silver band and sliding it on to his finger lovingly, "I have another suprise for you."  
  
"How is that possible?" Spike joked, standing and offering his hand to help her up. She stood and clutched his hand close to her chest.  
  
"Oh, its possible. Come with me."  
  
"But, what about the Creme Brulee?" Spike asked with a wink.  
  
"We'll come back for it," she replied, staring deeply into his eyes as she led him towards the exit. He followed blindly...but with eyes wide open, right on hers.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
He knew instantly what was up when she led him up the flagstone path to the Garden Seat Parish. And he was struck dumb by it, so overcome with thankfulness and awe that this little blonde woman would do this for him. Prove this to him.  
  
The ivy-covered stone chapel was silent but for the sound of one lone violin playing deep in its sanctuary. Buffy gazed up into Spike's astonished blue eyes and smiled at him.  
  
"You okay?" she whispered, straightening his tie.  
  
"Better than okay....Buffy, I'm....in awe. I feel so...unworthy to be this blessed," he gasped out, tears threatening to spill. She put her hand against his cheek, her forehead against his.  
  
"Me too. But at least we can be unworthy together, for the rest of our lives," she said, eyes dancing with joy, "Now, let's go."  
  
She pulled away and slowly pushed open the heavy wooden doors, allowing a gust of summer evening breeze to rush into the wide sanctuary. The rose petals that were spread heavily down the aisle were sent flying in the warm air, while the hundreds of burning candles flickered against the darkness of the room, and the golden glow of the setting sun that still filled the arched windows. The violinist smiled when he saw them entering, and the pastor waved his arm to beckon Spike to come join him.  
  
"Go down there and get ready to accept your bride, man," a british voice ordered Spike softly. He turned abruptly to see Giles wearing a suit and a gentle smile. And next to him was Nicholas, as decked out as he.   
  
"Surprise!" Nicholas said cheerfully, tossing a handful of rose petals into the air next to his father. Spike laughed and leaned over to kiss the boys curly hair, mussying it up before he went bounding down the aisle.   
  
First Nicholas walked down the row, one hand in his pocket, fiddling with the rings that Giles had bought his parents for the exchange in the ceremony, and the other hand pulling out petals from his other pocket and dropping them with the rest that already lay scattered. He grinned up at Spike when he reached him.  
  
"Mom didn't have a flower girl. Asked me to do both. I'm a flower-bearer," he giggled, showing the rings to his dad. Spike nodded and laughed with him...until the wedding march began to play, and he got distracted.  
  
She wasn't wearing a wedding dress, just a simple feminine outfit. She wasn't on her father's arm, just her co-worker and good friend. Her family wasn't there, just her son. The pews weren't full of people, just a violinist and a preacher. There was no extravagent decorating, no expensive cake for afterwards, no reception that would have the customary wedding dance, and probably the macarena once the drinks started flowing. No officiality to this day, this evening. And yet she glowed. She was happy. This was exactly. what. she. wanted. Ever since she was a little girl, and dreamed about this day. All that mattered was that she was getting married, and she was marrying the man of her dreams.  
  
Blue and hazel. Setting sun, violin, dark sancutary with pinpricks of candle light. Love.  
  
They exchanged their vows with iron determination and soft emotion. Nicholas handed the rings to them dutifully, only giggling a little when Spike winked at him. Then the pastor said the words:  
  
"I now pronounce you husband and wife- Mr. and Mrs. William Sheffield. You may kiss your bride."  
  
Their lips met eagerly, and Spike wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her as close to him as possible, smiling into the kiss when he heard Nicholas shout "Yay!" as he clapped. They pulled away with gasps and grins, Buffy clutching at him, as if afraid he'd disappear into a dream world.  
  
"Oh my god, I'm Buffy Sheffield!" she screeched joyfully as he tugged her up the aisle, abandoning the chapel in classic wedding style.  
  
"Oh my god, you're my wife!" Spike shouted in disbelief, lifting her up and twirling her around on the flagstone path.  
  
"Mom! Dad!" Nicholas cried happily, bursting out the doors and jumping up at them.   
  
"You, mister!" Spike accused, grabbing his son and hoisting him up between him and Buffy, "You knew about this and you didn't tell me! I think my feelin's may be a little hurt!" he jabbed his finger into the boy's suited chest playfully.  
  
"Mom didn't tell me. Giles did. Only a coupla minutes ago," he explained, turning his head towards Giles, who had just emerged from the church.  
  
"Buffy only planned it last night, Spike. I set things up this morning, and then told Nicholas when Buffy dropped him off. I plead innocent," Giles raised his right hand solemly.  
  
"I'm the guilty party!" Buffy laughed, mussying her husband's and son's curls.  
  
"And 'm so glad for it, pet," Spike purred, leaning down to kiss her again. Nicholas squirmed in his arms until Spike put him down, and let the boy flee from the smoochies and make the grossed-out expressions. Giles reached down and took Nicholas's small hand.  
  
"Come on my boy, they have a honeymoon to go on. And you and I are going to get chocolate chip cookies at Jenny's."  
  
"'Kay, but we gotta go get Scout first," Nicholas said, trotting towards Giles' car. The older british man stopped and stared at him for a minute.  
  
"And who, may I ask, is Scout?"   
  
"No one. She's at my house. Let's go!" Nicholas jumped into the car and gave Giles a mischevious smile.  
  
"My god, you are definitely those two's child," Giles sighed, and got into the car next to the overwhelmingly happy little boy.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"Now-" kiss "we are going" kiss "to this beaut-" kiss "-iful bed and breakfast" kiss "over the hill, where they " kiss, kiss, kiss "have this amazing honeymoon suite" kiss" oh! and guess what!?"   
  
Buffy drew back before Spike could reel her in for another lip-smacking kiss.  
  
"What?" Spike said in his carmel tones, leaning towards her again.  
  
"The resteraunt delivered our creme brulee there!" she said excitedly.  
  
"We're going to a honeymoon suite to celebrate our honeymoon, and you are excited over creme brulee?" Spike said, mock-pouting just so she would be tempted by his luscious lower lip.  
  
"Well..." she drawled, eyes fixed on said-lip, "Giles ordered my favorite champagne and its there too."  
  
"That's somethin'. Let's go," Spike said shortly, and lifted Buffy up in his arms and carried her to their car, laughter and kisses trailing behind them.  
  
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Next chapter: A smutty detour. Gotta have a chapter dedicated to honeymoon sex. 


	29. Honeymoon

A/N- Although it took me forever to get this out, its not a very long chapter. But its smutty, and fun, so everyone had better enjoy it!  
  
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Buffy's entire body was tingling. And she wanted nothing more than to sink to the floor- and onto her husband, but instead she was standing in front of the Bed and Breakfast's desk clerk, waiting for him to work out a problem, while said husband stared at her with smoldering eyes of intent. It was disconcerting, and alluring, and what the hell was taking this guy so long on the phone!?  
  
She let her eyes slide to Spike's, watching the light in them as he waggled his eyebrows at her. His hand reached out for her, sliding up the outside of her skirt-covered thigh, up over her rump, and along the curve of her waist. Buffy gasped and pulled back when his fingers tickeled the underside of her breast.  
  
'Bad!' she mouthed, and delighted in the deep chuckle that crinkled his face in a melt-worthy smile.  
  
"That's me, baby," he purred, wrapping his arm around her hips and bringing her against his side.  
  
"I like it. Hold that thought," she told him as she brushed her fingers up and down the buttons of his oxford.   
  
"I'm terribly sorry for making you wait. What can I do for you?" the desk clerk apologized as he hung up.  
  
"Honeymoon suite reservation under the name Sheffield?" Buffy said perkily, leaning even more into her husband's side.  
  
The clerk's eyes lit up as he typed something into the computer, "Yes, of course. An older gentleman dropped off your bags earlier, as did the runner from Garden Spot Cafe. Here is your key. If you need anything just call down to the desk, and we'll handle it for you. Enjoy your stay!"  
  
"Oh, we will. Don' worry," Spike smirked as he jangled the keyring and led Buffy towards the staircase.  
  
They quickly located their room, and fumbled their way in between kisses and groping like horny teenagers. Spike kicked the door shut behind him as he backed her to the bed, mouths fused together. Buffy giggled as he fell ontop of her on the soft comforter.  
  
"It's too dark in here," she pouted, blinking in the dimness while Spike nibbled on her jungular.  
  
"Lights on, eh? Kinky," he said fondly, raising his head to look down at her.  
  
"Not kinky. Practical. I want to see the delicious body I just married."  
  
Her hands danced down his chest, plucking at the buttons as they went. Spike stopped her for an instant to pull her blouse over her head, and as soon as he was done she instantly pushed his shirt from his shoulders.  
  
"Oh, so you jus' married me for my body, 's that it?" he pouted, hovering above her, his weight on his hands on either side of her head.  
  
"Something like that," she teased....  
  
And here goes the NC-17-ness. Read the rest of it at http://cruelbenediction.guitar-pick.com/heaven/ 


	30. Way

Buffy hated planes. Absolutely couldn't stand them. She felt like people had no business to be up in the sky like a bird. God gave them wings, He didn't give humans any. She hated the pressurized cabin, the dry sterile air, the way the windows rattled when there was turbulence. If claustrophobia included hatred for being stuck in a small metal tube that would probably break if she stomped her foot hard enough, then she had claustrophobia.   
  
Giles was sitting behind her with Jenny, the two of them perfectly at ease with the situation. Talking and laughing and having polite conversation with the woman sitting next to them, as well as the annoyingly attractive flight attendants. Spike sat to Buffy's left, in the middle seat, snoozing away with his earphones on. And Nicholas was bouncing around in the window seat, alternating between pressing his nose against the Plexiglas to look down at America, or crawling down on the floor to put his ear against the carpet, listening for Scout's bark.  
  
The plane passed through a cloud, causing everything to vibrate and shake and lunge. Buffy gripped the arms of the chair, Spike shifted his position, and Nicholas put his hands up and shouted "Woo-hoo!", causing her to jump.  
  
"Nicholas Sheffield, do not shout like that on an airplane!" she hissed, turning her head to glare at him, but not loosening her grip.  
  
Nicholas looked at her with wide, innocent eyes, "Sorry! It was fun! Like a Hershey Park ride!"  
  
"Well, its NOT a Hershey Park ride, young man. Its a big machine in the middle of the air and extremely dangerous!" she snapped. Spike stirred next to her and tugged off his earphones.  
  
"Buffy, its his first time on an airplane, love. Let him be," he said gently, rapidly blinking in the sunshine filled cabin.  
  
"Yeah, Mom, its my first time! Let me be," Nicholas repeated with a big defensive smile. He turned and planted his face against the window again. Spike looked over at his wife, noting her pale face, gripping white knuckles, and nervous swallowing.  
  
"Don't like planes, eh?" he smirked, adjusting his position to lean against her.  
  
"You know I don't like planes," she said shortly, holding the chair arms tighter when the plane lurched again.  
  
"Buffy....relax," he cooed softly, reaching over and prying her fingers off the metal to hold her hand in between his. She squeezed his hand with iron strength.  
  
"I can't. Too much turbulence," she protested. Spike raise one of his hands to her face, smoothing down along her jaw to turn her head towards him.  
  
"It's right as rain, Love. The pilot knows what he's doing. Come 'ere," he whispered, his fingers twining through her hair as he cupped the back of her neck.  
  
He pressed his lips against hers insistently, coaxing her to pay attention to him and not the quivering machine they were in. It worked. Soon her tongue was winding around his, skimming along his teeth, and sucking at his lips. Finally they both pulled away to gasp for breath.  
  
"Our flight back from California is a redeye. We should try to join the Mile High Club then, pet," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. She giggled.  
  
"No way, Mister. Not with Giles, Jenny, and our SON with us. Besides, flight attendants are really strict at night. They'll catch us," she argued with a grin between light kisses along his jaw.  
  
"Where's your sense of adventure?" he demanded playfully as he ran his hand up her arms to play with the collar of her jacket.  
  
"Well, if you put it that way...." she drawled, giving him a lingering kiss on his pouty lips, "But not with Nicholas around. You and I will just have to go away some other time and try it then."  
  
"Promise?" he asked hopefully, looking into her huge glimmering hazel eyes.  
  
"Definitely," she nodded, and leaned into kiss him again to keep her fear of planes at bay.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
"Giles," Spike began uncomfortably, weight shifting from one leg to the other as he regarded the older British man. People bustled around them as they stood together in the busy car-rental area of LAX.   
  
"Mr. Sheffield," Giles answered, mimicking Spike's tone, as his eyes scanned the long line they stood in, "What is it?"  
  
"I was wonderin', perhaps, if Buffy ever mentioned..."   
  
Giles sighed, knowing what Spike was trying desperately to bring up, and looked at him with serious grey eyes, "Penn."  
  
Spike nodded, his lips a hard flat line, "How did you know that was who I meant?"  
  
"I knew that Buffy would tell you eventually. I'm surprised your interrogation is not more explosive over the issue, to tell you the truth."  
  
"I had time to talk to her about it. And think about it. I haven't brought it up with her since she originally told me. But now that we're married...." Spike let the sentence hang in the air.  
  
"Have your finances been combined? You are legally, economically, and financially partners with her now?" Giles asked, pulling off his glasses to wipe them with a hankie.  
  
"Yeah, I am. Do you think I should be expectin' trouble?"   
  
"Yes," the older man replied simply, "I'm not going to deny that Penn could make your life very difficult. Granted, Buffy has never disclosed the full story to me. But I do know that she is quite bound to him in business. He helped us start Rustic Bend, in fact. And apparently he can be quite...demanding."  
  
"She told me that. As well as everything else. The whole sordid tale, " Spike sighed heavily. Giles put his hand on his shoulder, gripping it lightly. Spike looked at him seriously.  
  
"You are a good man, Spike. You will figure out a way. Love conquers all, right?"  
  
"Yeah..." Spike drawled softly, thoughts causing him to be a million miles away.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
The car ride to Sunnydale was more chaotic then the packing process, plane trip, and LAX traffic combined. Spike drove erratically, blaming it on the "kooshy, suburban soccermom design" of the minivan. Buffy sat in the passenger seat, shouting each time he did something she didn't approve of, and arguing with him over what was the shortest route to Joyce's home, and what music station to listen to. Giles and Jenny were having a heated discussion over whether to accept Joyce's invitation to stay at her home, or stay at a hotel. Giles felt it would be imposing since he had never met Buffy's mother, and Jenny argued animatedly about when people issue such kind invitations, you accept them. And Scout and Nicholas's dog-boy-speak babble only filled the minivans space to its extent.  
  
In short, Joyce heard them all arrive the moment they pulled up, and was waiting on the front porch with a big smile, and open arms.  
  
And her smile was contagious. Nicholas gave her a big hug and introduced her to Scout with pride. Giles succumbed to Jenny's wishes, and blushed as he told Joyce they would be staying at the house. Buffy admitted sulkingly that Spike's way HAD been faster, and then he kissed her pout right off her face before she even had a chance to greet her mother.  
  
And it was okay by Joyce. She beamed with happiness as she watched Spike push Buffy against the side of the minivan, their lips sealed together, and arms holding each other tightly. Joyce was holding her grandson's hand, giving a tour to him and Buffy's friends, and her daughter was finally in the arms and life that she deserved.  
  
Life was good. 


	31. Again

"No, no, no!! Don't staple the crepe paper to the wall, tape it!!" Joyce shouted over the chaos that was the Engagement/Marriage party preparations. Spike tossed the stapler onto the couch while remaining perched on the step ladder, holding up the end of a pale yellow streamer. Nicholas held the roll that the streamer lead to on the other side of the room, watching his grandmother become more and more agitated.  
  
"Don't tape it! Tape is ugly, use sticky tack," Jenny suggested, tying a bunch of balloons together and letting them float to the ceiling. Giles was bent over the helium tank, carefully filling each one to the perfect amount.  
  
"I don't have any sticky tack," Joyce said with a frown, bustling to grab tape in the desk drawer. Buffy entered from outside, balancing two huge trays of party snacks.  
  
"I got the snacks!" she announced with fanfare, setting them on the coffee table while Scout nipped at her feet, barking playfully.  
  
"Could someone PLEASE get me the tape so I don't have to sit up here like a bloody pigeon with this streamer?"  
  
"Hold on a second!"  
  
"Nicholas, hunny, don't let too much out. And did you feed Scout?"  
  
"Eighteen balloons is quite enough, right?"  
  
"Why are we doing the decoratin' and food fetchin' anyway? This is a party bein' thrown for us!"  
  
"We're helping my mom, Spike!"  
  
"If you're gonna use tape, make sure you roll it so you can't see it. Sticky tack is so much better."  
  
"Oh dear, I think I left the tape up in my office."  
  
"Lick it! If you lick the crepe paper and stick it to the wall it works, see? Scout just licked this piece and its sticking to the floor."  
  
"Our kid's got such a good head on his shoulders."  
  
"Don't you dare lick it, Spike."  
  
"Look, if you suck in the helium you can make your voice sound funny."  
  
"Jenny, darling, don't teach Nicholas that. He's impressionable."  
  
"I found the tape!"  
  
"Hand it to me please, mum,"  
  
"Hmm...that might be too many balloons."  
  
"Nicholas!! Look at this mess! And what are you sucking on?  
  
"It's so good Wes and Fred didn't come along. This would have been a nightmare."  
  
"As if it isn't already?"  
  
*Ding-Dong*  
  
And that's how the first guests, Willow and Oz, found them. Spike was still balanced on the footstool, trying to roll tape to stick a delicate string of crepe paper to the wall, while the other end lay in a tattered and wet mess on the floor, being licked by a playful Rottweiler puppy. Nicholas sat next to the animal, taking deep breaths from an opened helium balloon, and giggling as he spoke to Jenny. Giles was counting balloons, Joyce fumbling around the coffee table, and Buffy staring in shock at the mess Scout and her son had made.  
  
"Guess the party's already started?" Willow said with a giggle.  
  
"Oh my gosh, Will! Hey again! It's so great to see you again so soon!" Buffy exclaimed, forgetting her anger when she saw her best friend again. The two women hugged as they shrieked, which caused the puppy to begin barking. Oz's eyebrows arched with stoic amusment.  
  
"Even the dog has the party spirit," he mused. Buffy pulled away from Willow and threw her arms around Oz's neck.  
  
"I barely know you, but you make Willow happy, and you're almost apart of our little family, so hey!" she said as she squeezed him. He gently closed his arms around her too.  
  
"Hey!" he said with a smile as she released him.  
  
"Red, you look more lovely than ever," Spike smiled warmly as he walked over to greet his redheaded friend. She giggled as she pulled him into an enthusiastic hug.  
  
"I've missed you over this last month!" she said, giving him a peck on his cheek.  
  
"Sorry, 've been otherwise occupied."  
  
"I'm glad," she gushed, eyes darting back and forth between his and Buffy's happy faces. He winked at her, and then turned to shake Oz's hand.  
  
"Congratulations, man," Oz said with an encouraging nod.  
  
"Thanks," Spike replied, smiling over at his beaming wife.  
  
"Well, well, well, the studmuffin's finally got his ball and chain," an obnoxious, but always energetic voice came from the doorway.  
  
"Faith!" Buffy shouted, skipping over like a child to give her cousin a hug.  
  
"Hey, B! It's good to see ya!" she laughed, squeezing as hard as Buffy. Angel stepped through the door behind them.  
  
"I must have fallen asleep.." he said in a jokingly awed voice, gazing at the two gorgeous females holding each other.  
  
"Wanna add a redhead to the mix?" Spike teased, grabbing Willow's slender elbow.  
  
"Hey now, children present," Willow scolded with a laugh. Nicholas had wandered into the foyer doorway, and stood watching them with wide eyes.  
  
"Oh yeah, the kid!" Faith gasped, pulling away from Buffy to look down at the 8 year old boy, "Heya Nick, my names Faith."  
  
He took her outstretched hand and shook it politely, "Don't call me 'Nick'."  
  
Faith laughed, her ruby red lips splitting open in an impressed smile, "Oh yeah, he's definitely your guys' kid."  
  
"Everybody keeps saying that," Buffy said with a frown, "like its a bad thing or something!"  
  
"No, no. Just means he's got both of your extreme characters all rolled up in one," Willow assured her friend.  
  
"He's definitely a cutie-patootie though," Faith complimented, winking at Nicholas.  
  
"Hey little man, I'm Angel. Soon-to-be husband of Faith," Angel introduced himself, mussying the boys hair. "Is that you're rottweiler I see in there?"  
  
Nicholas's face lit up, "Yeah, that's Scout. Wanna meet her?"  
  
Spike and Oz walked to the kitchen to grab beers as Faith, Willow, and Buffy watched Angel and Nicholas bound off to play with Scout in the living room.   
  
"Uh-oh, Faith. Kid's on the horizon?" Buffy teased her cousin, noting how well Angel got along with the 8 year old.  
  
"Maybe." She surprised them both with her serious answer.  
  
"Wow, really?" Willow asked, looking over at the brunette whom she had never really gotten along with well.  
  
"Yeah. I love Angel. I wanna have his little brats. You ready to be an aunt?" she turned to gaze steadily at Willow. She nodded.  
  
"Definitely. And a mother."  
  
"Wills! That is so great!" Buffy squealed, putting her arms around both of them, "You guys will both be terrific mothers!"  
  
Just then the front door swung open again, and in came the SuperMom of the group. Anya fumbled with the door while holding baby Janice in her arms and a diaper bag, as 7 year old Dawn trailed behind with Xander.  
  
"Buffy! Glad to see you again. It's been a long time. I haven't really noticed your absence too much, as I've been busy having a family, but it is definitely pleasant being with you again!" Anya greeted her old friend, giving her a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"I see you've been busy," Buffy laughed, looking at Anya's two beautiful daughters. Xander's face glowed happily as he walked toward his friend he hadn't seen for years.  
  
"Oh god, Buffster, its so awesome to see you again. You've been missed!" he wrapped her up in a bear hug, savoring her giggles, "Where's this little boy of yours? I want Dawn to meet him." he asked her as he pulled away, nudging her and winking.  
  
"No way are we going to betroth our children," she protested with a grin, "and he's right over there with Angel."  
  
And one by one they made their way into the living room, introductions and hugs happening over and over and punctuated with laughter.  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Spike tapped a spoon loudly against the neck of his beer bottle to get the attention of the people gathered around. They eventually got quiet and looked at him with expectant smiles on their faces.  
  
"I'd like to thank everbody for coming today. 's been bloody incredible catchin' up with all you. Everybody's gettin' married, and havin' kids, and I'm so thankful that me an' Buffy can be apart of that now. We ARE sorry that we got married without anybody around, but it's the celebration that counts. So here we are, celebratin' my marriage to Buffy, Faith and the Poofter's engagement," Spike grinned wickedly as people hooted at his nickname for Angel, "Red and Oz's engagement, an' also BlackCharis's new record deal with Sony!"  
  
Everybody clapped and urged Oz and Tara to stand up to recieve the applause. Tara's face flushed bright red and she gave Spike a look that could kill, but also screamed of thanks. He held up his hands to quiet everybody down again.  
  
"In closin', I'd just like to say that you guys- Joyce, Faith, Angel, Giles, Jenny, Tara, Willow, Oz, Anya, Xander, an' your kids, are the best friends and family a bloke an' his wife and son could have."  
  
A chorus of 'awww's from the women, and grunts of appreciation and teasing came from the men.   
  
"You've turned soft!" Xander shouted out, while Angel gave Spike a hug, thumping him on the back.  
  
"Watch it, Harris. I can still beat your ass at pool," Spike warned, pointing menacingly at his friend.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Xander said with a wave of his hand, "Whatever you say, mate."  
  
Voices began talking over each other again, and the dog started barking, and everybody just relished and recognized the chaos as home. 


	32. Motion

Buffy yawned and leaned across the consol between the front two seats to put her head on her husband's shoulder. They had flown all night, finally landing in Philadelphia's airport at 7 in the morning. Although all 5 of them had slept on the plane, everyone was still exhausted- Buffy didn't even remember saying goodbye to Giles and Jenny as they left the airport to go to their seperate homes.  
  
"Ready to stretch out on that nice soft bed of yours, love?" Spike whispered, brushing his lips across her hair before turning his focus back on driving.  
  
"Yes. My back hurts from sleeping in an full and upright locked position," she mumbled into the leather of his coat.  
  
"You coulda put the seat back, you know."  
  
"I don't like doing that. It takes away the person's space behind me."  
  
"My lady. So considerate," he teased gently, slowing the vehicle down as they drove through their neighborhood.  
  
"That's me..." she sighed, smacking her lips, almost about to drift off....when Spike tensed beneath her head.  
  
"What the..." he began. Buffy sat up quickly, running a hand over her face.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked, eyes darting around.   
  
Two cars were parked in front of their house, thee men standing on the porch with briefcases, checking their watches and ringing the doorbell. One was on his cell phone, talking grimly as he stared at the house. Spike pulled into the driveway and turned off the SUV after sliding it into park.  
  
"Geez, what time is it? Isn't it a little early for people to be visiting?" she asked, smoothing down her hair and climbing out of the SUV.  
  
"'s almost 8," he told her, taking a glance at sleeping Nicholas in the backseat before following his wife to meet the three suited men.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Sheffield?" the one asked, extending his hand as he walked toward them.  
  
"Yeah, what can we do for you?" Spike asked, his eyebrows knitting together suspicously as he shook the man's hand.  
  
"Mr. Sheffield, my name is Lindsey MacDonald, and these are my colleagues Holden Webster, and Gavin Park. We're attorneys with the law firm Wolfram and Hart. Perhaps you've heard of us?" the man spoke with a slight southern twang, his blue eyes slightly off, as if he was completely trustworthy but not honest at all.  
  
"Can't say that I 'ave," Spike said slowly, looking at the two other men that flanked Lindsey, "Again I ask, what can we do for you? It's 8 o'-bloody-clock in the morning. We just got home from a long trip, so if you'd gentlemen would be so kind as to come back another time, we'd appreciate it."  
  
"I'm afraid our business is rather urgent. We've been trying to get in touch with you for days, actually," he said, looking at Buffy, who had been watching with eyes of realization, her face getting steadily paler.  
  
"Well, you can bugger off for a couple of hours, mate," Spike replied tersely, the muscle on his jaw twitching as he gritted his teeth together.  
  
"No, Spike. I need to talk to them. So do you," Buffy interrupted, laying a calming hand on his arm, "This is about our marriage, isn't it?" she asked, turning back to Lindsey.  
  
Lindsey nodded as Gavin stepped forward and spoke, "And how it is in violation to your financial agreement with Mr. Christopher A. Penn."  
  
--- --- ---  
  
Twenty-five minutes later, the five adults were still involved in a serious financial conversation, documents and folders spread out on the coffee table between them as they sat in the parlor. Nicholas had gone up to his room with Scout, closing the door to shield himself from their steadily angier and louder voices.  
  
"And you didn't even NOTICE the loophole, pet?" Spike asked for the umpteenth time, shoving an angry hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
"No! I mean, this doesn't make any sense, this part about 'future commitments'. How was I supposed to know he meant marriage?" Buffy said with annoyance, picking up the contract and then tossing it back down to the table with disgust.  
  
"Why'd you even sign a damn contract anyway?" her husband asked, looking over at her.  
  
"It was necessary for the purchase of the resteraunt, Rustic Bend," Holden informed him. Spike glared at the lawyer.  
  
"You do know how illegal this is, right? This contract is only the tip of the iceberg. There's a whole blackmail issue going on with-"  
  
"Spike!" Buffy shouted at the same time Lindsey spoke:  
  
"We are not here to discuss Mr. Penn's or your wife's personal life. We are merely here to settle a new agreement. Mr. Penn is quite distraught over the problems your new lifestye causes for him."  
  
"Distraught? He gets my life on a platter. Lifestyle is a lot like personal life, Mr. MacDonald," Buffy shot back, "I fell in love, I got married. My arrangement with Penn is still on...for now. He doesn't need to....get involved. I'm still part of are agreement. Full participant." She cast a look at Spike.  
  
"But I promised I'd take care of it," he responded at her look.  
  
"That is not our business either. The bottom line is- the half of Rustic Bend that belonged to you, now belongs to Mr. Penn due to your violation of your financial contract, signed by yourself, Christopher A. Penn, Rupert Giles, Quinton Travers, and my associate Holden Webster."  
  
"But you are here to work this out? So does that mean I can get my half back?"  
  
"No, that is not possible. What we need to settle is how much of your funds will be obtained by Mr. Penn."  
  
"Fuckin' loophole," Spike muttered under his breath, "Tha's your punishment for doin' something Penn didn't want."  
  
  
  
Buffy stood up and wrapped her arms around herself.  
  
"Tell him to take all of it. But if he does, I don't want to hear from him again. No more of these drive-by's. You DO know what I'm talking about, don't you?" her hazel eyes sparked at all three of them.  
  
"We are aware," Lindsey had the decency to duck his head as he spoke.  
  
"So you tell the bastard, that if he so much as thinks about me from this day on, I will hire the best goddamn lawyers in this country, and take down him... and Wolfram and Hart."  
  
Gavin nodded and pulled a delicate gold pen from his pocket, while Holden reached in his briefcase and presented her with a document. She accepted both and sat next to Spike, letting him read the new contract over his shoulder.  
  
"Buffy, don't sign it. He's taking you for everything your worth," Spike said after they had finished perusing it. She turned her head to look at him, placing a reassuring hand on his knee and squeezing.  
  
"Spike, if I sign this, he won't be apart of my life anymore. I am desperate to have you and Nicholas as the only men in my life," she said, her eyes still vibrant with anger.  
  
Spike nodded and watched grimly as she signed on the line, her delicate looping signature shimmering. Next Spike signed, heaving a sigh as he slid it across the table so the three attorneys could sign.  
  
Five minutes later, they were gone.  
  
"It's all gone," Spike was the first to speak, his voice tight.  
  
"The son of a bitch. I really didn't give him enough credit," Buffy hissed, pacing the room.  
  
"No, you didn't," he agreed, "But you were young."  
  
"But I'm NOT young anymore. And he had to beat me just when everything was good. And I hate him!! And....I don't want to stay here anymore."  
  
Spike looked up at her in surprise, "What?"  
  
"Let's go back to California, Spike. There's no reason to stay here in Philly," she pleaded, plopping down on the couch next to him and grabbing his hands, "I mean, you already work for Revamp Designs. And I can find something to do. And sure, I'll miss Wes, Giles, Jenny, Lilah, and Fred, but they can always come out to visit," her plead turned into an adorable pout, "I want our son to grow up in Sunnydale. And the rest of our kids too."  
  
A smile had steadily been growing on Spike's face as she spoke.  
  
"You serious?" he asked, releasing her hand so he could run his fingers over her cheek and jaw.  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
"The rest of our kids?"  
  
Buffy's mouth curved into a shining grin, "You noticed that, huh?"  
  
He nodded and leaned forward to kiss her beautiful lips.  
  
"Alright, baby, pack your bags, we're running away together." 


	33. Epilogue

Weave and Tear - Epilogue  
  
Life happened. Problems of Philly's past faded away. Life moved on. To Sunnydale again, to pick up where it left off. Life grew and grew until it was so full that Buffy could only sit back and enjoy the delicious, hectic motion of it all.  
  
Nicholas was almost 14, going to school with Dawn at Sunnydale Junior High, protesting all the while that he didn't have a crush on the tall, blue-eyed, long brunette haired family friend. The two bickered endlessly, which only amused and convinced the adults further that they were meant to be.  
  
Child Number Two, Cassie, was four, and got every ounce of her personality and looks from Spike. A complete handful, with a snarky sense of humor, who had adopted her father's accent as well. Despite her streaks of mischief, disobedience, and rebellious tendencies, she was a genuine girl who truly loved her family, and charmed Buffy to no end.  
  
Child Number Three was a quiet little baby boy who reminded Buffy of her late mother, who had died a few days before he was born. He was named Joseph, in honor of Joyce, and had been the most delightful infant a person could have. He was now two, and as quiet as a church mouse, and a joy to have around.  
  
The others had their own full families of rambunctious children as well. Today was their barbecue at Rustic Bend Too in Sunnydale, which they had closed for the day to celebrate Buffy and Spike's 5th Anniversary, and Faith and Angel's son Connor's 3rd birthday.  
  
The children were running around causing a ruckus with a fully grown Scout (who wasn't technically allowed in the resteraunt) and helium balloons that Jenny insisted on bringing (only so she could open them up and make all the kids talk in silly voices). Giles had brought Jenny, Fred, Wesley, and Lilah out for the occasion, who really couldn't have been kept away from their California side of the family, ever since they had met them 4 years ago. The adults were all milling around, exchanging inside jokes, hugs, and joking insults that kept getting worse and worse until Buffy was thankful that the children were distracted by their own games.  
  
Buffy watched Spike talking animatedly to the guys over in the pool room of Rustic Bend Too, his words often jumbled in his constant laughter. As if he knew he was in her gaze, he turned to stare at her, his eyes bright blue and happy.   
  
The same eyes that told her they could only be friends.  
  
The same eyes that pleaded her to be more than friends.  
  
The same eyes that were fixed so surely on hers as he repeated his vows.  
  
The same eyes that filled with tears when she told him she was pregnant with their second child.  
  
And sure, the same eyes that snapped with anger when they fought and shouted at each other, but that were always full of apologies when he admitted he was wrong (even if he wasn't).  
  
So full of love, their lives were the perfect blend of friendship, laughs, tears, and support.   
  
Buffy smiled at him, winked, and then closed her eyes, letting the wonderful noise of her life wash over her, like a blanket of perfect, colorful threads. Each different, each special, each part of the huge chaotic family.  
  
Together forever.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Well, there you have it. THE END! Hope it wasn't too hokey. I'm a big BuffyFamily! Fan...whether it be the Scoobies on the show itself, or the fanbase, or the seperate sects of the fanbase. I just love how we're all so connected, so I try to put that in certain fics.   
  
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed Weave and Tear. I had a blast writing it. It's my first All Orignial, completed AU fic, so I'm quite proud I wrapped it up. Now that I think about it, it took me just a few months shy of a year to finish this thing! Crazy!! And you all who have been reading it the whole time: YOU'RE INSANE!!!  
  
Stick around for the next AU....it promises to be a good one.   
  
Oh, and no sequels...so don't even ASK. If you do, I will eat you for breakfast or something. I hate sequel demands, because I usually do them (ie: The Final)...but I'm serious this time. Don't ask. It won't happen.  
  
::curtsies::  
  
Heaven's Fields Laid Bare - The Fanfiction of Alantie  
  
http://cruelbenediction.guitar-pick.com/heaven/  
  
The Allison Behind Alantie - The LJ  
  
http://www.livejournal.com/users/alantie  
  
Always You - An Elite AU Spuffy Fanfic Archive  
  
http://always.still-believe.org 


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